Time to wake up! And to relax. Which I started last night, as I have about one-and-one-third days of weekend this week. I did an extra work shift yesterday. And certain days have themes. Saturday's work theme was, um, COMBAT.
That happens sometimes. I'm surprised how often it happens on the weekend. People seemed more ready to be angry or argumentative, and I wasn't quite in the mood to counter that. More calls than usual sent to supervisors yesterday, since they get paid better to tell people what they don't want to hear. (It can get funny when a program that works for literally millions of customers gets denounced by someone as "unfair." I knew my thinking that that is funny might come through as I explained it to him, so I didn't, I let someone else do so.)
Then, bad timing: I went to lunch, whipped out my iPad, mentioned on Twitter how the day had been going...and got hit with an attempted joke. A joke that didn't feel like a joke, to the point that I bit back my first, oh, four or five possible responses (which likely would have involved swearing) then asked, privately, Um, was that a joke or did I piss you off? Or both? I found out this morning that it'd been meant as a joke. To quote Grimm's Sgt. Wu after a wisecrack of his went flat, "Hey, they can't all be winners." But the way my day had been going, I'd wanted to be sure. OK, Time to let it go.
And to see friends and sing. Which I did. After getting home from work, I went to the birthday party for a friend of mine, Quizmaster Polly, a professional pub trivia host. She hosted a trivia-and-karaoke night. I found a team of friends (we called ourselves the Manimal Liberation Front. My amused response: "MiLF. There's another layer to that."), and we did respectively. Didn't win, but we had fun not winning! Then the karaoke. Yes, I did karaoke. For only the second time in my life.
OK, I should count the real first time: singing in a recording booth at my high school after-graduation party. I sang "Do Wah Diddy." In two different voices. I still have that tape somewhere. But last night was the second night I was up in a bar with a mic, singing to drunk people after having a beer myself, and that's what makes me count it as TRUE karaoke. (The first I did that was 2011, I think, at the Alibi here in Portland, to a crowd that included Atomic Arts actors, and I sang Elvis's "A Little Less Conversation.")
Last night's song: Blondie's "Rapture." Which came out a little more growl-y Tom Waits, though I did some of it in a high-pitched Debbie Harry-esque voice (plus I did some of the chime-like musical effects in that song, too). I got some applause! And some praise from people, including hot women!
Now to keep relaxing, and to recover my voice. I do use it for work, after all.