A train that wouldn't stop at my station

I got an e-mail saying my gas bill is "now available". I had just paid it, so I was clicking to see if the total included that most recent payment yet, and when I went to the website the domain name had expired. Wow, really? In all of the giant company of People's Gas, no one set up a reminder e-mail to get all those registrations renewed? Amazing. And sad. And tempting me to put down the $50 to take it out from under them.

There were grand plans for a longer, more details post, possibly even with the semi-lascivious details of my date last night, but the benadryl and tylenol-pm combo is starting to kick in and it might be time for bed instead. It is tempting to think about waking up to vote, taking more drugs and sleeping until its midnight and a clear winner has been declared and it's the best possible scenario. Then that will be one less-anxiety inducing thing on my plate. Plus, I'm empathic, its not just my own freaking out, its the hum of freaking out everywhere that permeates the air. In this case I'm using freaking out as an umbrella term to include people freaking out with excitement and joy, those physically freaking out as they run around and work on the campaigns, and the rest of us who just click on every single news story and monitor every tiny move, waiting for something to come crashing down and through the door.

Oh yeah, the drugs have definitely started to kick in. I'm almost falling asleep while talking. Er, typing. See?