Disoriented

I dozed off while I was reading yesterday afternoon, and I woke up around 7. I couldn't tell if it was AM or PM for a while, and it kind of freaked me out.

I turned on the ball game, but I must have fallen back into what Ryan Seacrest has dubbed "unprotected sleep" (He means falling asleep without setting your alarm clock; get your minds out of the gutter.) because I was jolted awake about an hour and a half later by a phone call.

Then I was ticked, because I had forgotten to turn the VCR off so it could record Friday Night Lights. I'll have to watch it on nbc.com later. I read some comments on the forums at TWOP, and apparently it's an awesome episode. (That's another thing: I couldn't get the site to come up for the longest time. Apparently they were having server issues.)

That time I stayed up long enough to watch Chris Sligh get the boot. Can't say I'm sorry to see him go, but it continued the feeling that I was in some sort of bizarro universe.

This morning, I pull in to the parking lot, and mine is the only car there. Spooky! Apparently this is what happens when all the lights are green and you get there two minutes before 8, as opposed to five minutes after. Okay, ten minutes after.

Anyhow, that's my life up to the last five minutes. (Dennis Miller was on the Daily Show the other day — I loved the bit where Jon and Stephen interact between shows and Stephen tried to out-Dennis Dennis with the obscure references and whatnot.) I might get some more CDs from Lala today, which would liven things up considerably. I need something interesting to listen to while my mind boggles at the complexity and detail of the web redesign project at work.