Conceptual Eyestrain

I've been grumbling all week about having to do inventory tonight. I loathe inventory. 7 long hours of hunching over CD bins counting every piece by hand while RGIS follows behind with their little scanners as we argue over whether we just counted 456 pieces or 455, and with a store the size of a Hechinger, formerly known as "The World's Most Unusual Lumber Store" (in fact when my CD store first opened in place of the old Hechinger those words were still deeply sun-bleached into the wall right underneath the record store sign, and on that opening day my friend and I were wandering around looking at all the CDs and remarking, "Wow, this really is the world's most... er, unusual lumber store.") the job takes close to 3:00 am before wrapping up for the workday. But after less than two hours into it the power goes out. In fact it goes out over a large blockage of Virginia Beach, as a power pole somewhere down the boulevard catches fire and puts many a neighborhood's porchlights out -- all except my own, apparently, after giving Joe a quick call to confirm our power status at home. We at the store ended up eating pizza delivery by flashlight and just running our mouths until we went home an hour later. So, no inventory. And here I am after having chugged a bucketload of coffee at 7:00 pm and a brief disco nap at 1:00 pm expecting to pull an all-nighter, and I am nowhere near tired. I am, in fact, the exact opposite of what I thought I was going to be right about this time; blurry-eyed, punchy, and hating the very sight of CDs. Nope, I am none of those things right at this moment. I have now what my friends and I commonly refer to as the vut-vuts, which is the sensation you get after having had an inhumane amount of caffeine and as a result you're all wired and giggly and you want nothing more to do right at this moment than to go knit a 30-foot-long rugby scarf for your Uncle Nelson. Yeah, I think I'm going to be up for awhile tonight, regardless.

Maybe I'll go count my CDs.