My Bleary Eyes Can Make You Out in the Distance

For fuck's sake.

I really, really wanted to post another "Meta on Commute" tonight.

But I'm not going to.

I arrived home from work at ten. I arrived at work this morning at half past nine.

I can barely see the screen in front of me. I am at that point where I can only make vague hand gestures and flop tiredly on flat (yet soft) surfaces.

The worst thing is that I will be working these hours tomorrow as well, because I'm taking a day off on Thursday. Christ, no one told me it was such hard work to have a holiday.

And it's not like I'm even taking a day off because I feel like having a long weekend. If only! I'd get a chance to write, something I'll have to sequester myself into my room on Friday and Saturday. Damn in, I need to get this story done, it is meant to be a gift!

Yeah, so my day off is going to be a nightmare one way or another. You see, I've decided to schlep my ass to Jerusalem (a city towards which my feelings are not wholly positive) in order to participate in the annual Pride/Memorial march. Not only am I participating, I'm going to be an usher there. I've never been an usher at any kind of political event in my life. Well, apparently this includes interacting with the police (a segment of the population that has never made me feel particularly safe, not as a woman and certainly not as a gay woman with political opinions that are considered wrong by many and dissident by others).

So yeah. Fun times.

At least I'll see friends, allies and have a place to crash, considering my sister and her family make their home in that city.