Time to make the donuts

I've worked the past thirteen days straight, 12-15 hours per day, implementing a new hazardous waste tracking system on post that "goes live" on Monday.

I feel disoriented, with a brain full of mush, and unable to articulate simple thoughts. When I asked the date the other day, and the person replied, "the 3rd", I said, "No. What month?"

One lesson I have learned: if you send a 17 year boy to the grocery store to do the weekly shopping because he won't shut up about how there's never any food in the house, expect him to come back with cases of bottled water, potato chips, and pink wafer cookies.