Hot and cruddy

The heat was awful. If I hadn't've had Ali's Harry Potter I don't know what I would have done. Thursday night I had this terrible my-job-is-incompatible-with-my-lifestyle moment. It was Restaurant Week, and I had reservations at Tabla for an early $20.03 dinner. Except that I also had work. I had mentioned to my dispatchers when I dropped off a change of clothes in the office that morning that I had to leave an hour early. They forgot. And I got dumped on. So it was 4:30 and I was staring at 15 runs that I had to finish in a half hour in order to get back downtown, in and out of the office, and to the restaurant on time. It didn't happen. I finished up at 85th and 3rd at 5:25, gave up on the change-of-clothes idea, and hopped on the 4 express. It was running local, and I was running late. It was all I needed for a silent (if total) mental breakdown-- sick of being hot and covered in crud, and a half hour late to a dinner I couldn't even really afford.

Anyway, that's passed. Or enough, I guess, since I'm driving out to Chicago next weekend to go do this. Which reminds me, I've got a bike to fix.