Hypnomania

Sleep is overrated.

Dreaming is not. I saw a white cottage made of a deep freezer, many cartoon tyrannosaurus rexes gallivanting around amidst a forest of Hawaiian tshirt flowers. One dinosaur had a red yoyo. Another drove around in a pristine Edsel, honking at the squirrels blocking the road.

My eyes carve trenches of glowing blue light in my cheeks. I think it's an artefact of my ever-present megrims. Indeed, the light trench has been with me daily at work for the past few weeks. It's only distracting when I look straight down.

Toil

I'm sure I'll be sent home early. It's just a matter of when. It's absolutely dead in here, and people are being sent left, right, and centre--some even before their first break.

The toilet at home is malfunctioning. We have to go elsewhere to poop. I've been pouring chunky libations in the loo at work. I sure hope the landlords can fix our toiley, or else there will be a disaster tomorrow during the NYE party. Once upon a time, when I was a little kid, I used chamberpots, but I'd rather not do it again. Indoor plumbing is one of the world's greatest inventions.

I just had a travel agent ask me for my title. I was tempted to say "Her Majesty," but said "Voice Agent" instead. That's a bit of a bump down, I'm afraid.

NYE isn't until tomorrow, so why are my customers apparently drunk and stupid?

Me: Thank you for calling *** Hotels. How may I help you?

Silly Customer (SC): I just made a reservation a couple of hours ago, and I'd like to have a confirmation emailed to me.

Me: Certainly. May I have the confirmation number?

SC: It was for next month. I'd like to have it emailed.

Me: I need to have the confirmation number in order to email it to you.

SC: Or it could be faxed.

Me: May I please have the confirmation number?

SC: It's in Saskatoon.

Me: May I please have the confirmation number?

SC: Ok. It's blah@blah.com.

Me: *writes it down* May I please have the confirmation number?

SC: Oh. Ok. *gives number*

Sheesh.