Sandpanther (sandpanther) wrote,

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Walk Like Jack Sparrow

I think I've finally figured out the secret to moving like Jack Sparrow: Sleep deprivation. Lots of it.

Somehow now, after a happy four hours of sleep, I am staggering around with that odd, boneless, almost drug-induced grace that Jonny Depp managed so nicely. I hope people appreciate my immitative grace and artistry and don't decide that they need to pack me off for a drug test instead.

The lack of sleep is also starting to inspire me in the direction of Jack's strage behavior as well. Upon staggering out to my car to leave at far-too-dark-hundred this morning, I discovered a large black car parked at the exit to the parking area. I stare at the meager space the wallowing black warthog left and conclude that even if I weren't staggering around like a drunken swishy pirate that the space is still a little too small to fit my car through. The lack of person in the car was unencouraging. The lack of blinkers made me wonder if the person just got fed up with the lack of parking and had headed back to bed. I look around. No people, nor even promising-looking open doors. I ponder getting in my car and honking loudly, but decide that it's probably still to early to be that rude.

"Hello?" I call softly. No people appear.

"Hello, person?" I call again. Still no response.

"Hello person with car parked in the way," I call a little louder. I am hoping by this point that my roomie is sound asleep, and will not mock me for this the next time she sees me.

About this time a little college-aged twit appears. "Oh, sorry," she says. "I just had to move the car out of the garage."

I stare at the car. It is, in fact, not in the garage. It is still in the middle of the street. I decide that I am not coherent enough to point out to her that next time, maybe she should park somewhere where the street is wider, rather than at the mouth of a bottleneck. She moves her car and I stagger to mine, thinking vile thoughts about stupid and inconsiderate college kids. I mean honestly, she doesn't even hold a Blonde Card. Who does she think she is, pulling twit-like stunts like that?

And for no apparent reason, I was ceased with an irresistable desire to have orange soda.

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