Revision Status: Nearly there.
So, yesterday I decide the only way I'm gonna get my revision done is if I'm away from my home. So I checked in to the Radisson downtown, holed up in my room, and worked for six hours straight.
And you all thought I was crazy on a good day? Lemme tell you, after this marathon sitting, I was talking to the walls. And they were answering. And they were telling me I looked fat in my jeans.
So I decide caffeine is in order. But I don't have change. I trudged through the hallways (which makes it sound like it was snowing inside, but it wasn't), and down the elevator eight floors to the lobby to change a fiver. In my pajamas.
Afterward, as I waited for the elevator in the lobby, a group of business travelers joined me. They are all dressed sharp, talking and laughing. Very loud.
When the elevator arrives, we all sashay inside and push our buttons, and, I swear, they are each staying on separate floors. Every button from 5 through 12 is pushed. (I'm on 8, so it's not that bad.)
Here's the kicker. Once we're inside the elevator, their talking and laughing immediately ceases, and we all stare straight ahead in silence.
I couldn't understand it! One second, they're like a walking cocktail party, and the next they're eerily quiet. This made me very uncomfortable.
So I blurted out, "Sucks to be the one on floor 12, huh?"
Dead silence. No one even looked at me. We were in a 4X4 foot room, it's not like they couldn't hear me.
This makes me want to talk even more. (An annoying trait of mine is the uncontrollable word vomit, especially after hours of revisions. You all probably know this.)
So I'm all, "Floor 12. Know what I mean? Who's with me?"
Uncomfortable laughter, as I'm sure they are thinking, "I thought Utah didn't serve alcohol." My Mickey Mouse pajama bottoms didn't help the situation either.
Finally, days later, when we reached floor 8, I stepped out, head held high. But before the doors closed, I held my own hand up and slapped it while shouting, "Self-five!"
That's when I knew, without a doubt, that no amount of caffeine would help me.
So, in case you've never witnessed a loser self-five, I'm presenting one below. I've never felt so close to "The Todd" on Scrubs.
By the way, the Radisson was great. But I'll probably never show my face again.
So, yesterday I decide the only way I'm gonna get my revision done is if I'm away from my home. So I checked in to the Radisson downtown, holed up in my room, and worked for six hours straight.
And you all thought I was crazy on a good day? Lemme tell you, after this marathon sitting, I was talking to the walls. And they were answering. And they were telling me I looked fat in my jeans.
So I decide caffeine is in order. But I don't have change. I trudged through the hallways (which makes it sound like it was snowing inside, but it wasn't), and down the elevator eight floors to the lobby to change a fiver. In my pajamas.
Afterward, as I waited for the elevator in the lobby, a group of business travelers joined me. They are all dressed sharp, talking and laughing. Very loud.
When the elevator arrives, we all sashay inside and push our buttons, and, I swear, they are each staying on separate floors. Every button from 5 through 12 is pushed. (I'm on 8, so it's not that bad.)
Here's the kicker. Once we're inside the elevator, their talking and laughing immediately ceases, and we all stare straight ahead in silence.
I couldn't understand it! One second, they're like a walking cocktail party, and the next they're eerily quiet. This made me very uncomfortable.
So I blurted out, "Sucks to be the one on floor 12, huh?"
Dead silence. No one even looked at me. We were in a 4X4 foot room, it's not like they couldn't hear me.
This makes me want to talk even more. (An annoying trait of mine is the uncontrollable word vomit, especially after hours of revisions. You all probably know this.)
So I'm all, "Floor 12. Know what I mean? Who's with me?"
Uncomfortable laughter, as I'm sure they are thinking, "I thought Utah didn't serve alcohol." My Mickey Mouse pajama bottoms didn't help the situation either.
Finally, days later, when we reached floor 8, I stepped out, head held high. But before the doors closed, I held my own hand up and slapped it while shouting, "Self-five!"
That's when I knew, without a doubt, that no amount of caffeine would help me.
So, in case you've never witnessed a loser self-five, I'm presenting one below. I've never felt so close to "The Todd" on Scrubs.
By the way, the Radisson was great. But I'll probably never show my face again.
