It's not an ordinary day.

Usually, by this time of night, I'm at home, on my couch petting my cat. Not today. I keep looking at the clock, because it feels like I should be at home already, but I've still got 3 1/2 hours to go.

And it's dragging.

Thankfully, I had the presence of mind to pack myself some CDs to add to my library at work, so I'm getting my Irish going, listening to some Black 47 and trying not to think of Guinness. In a bit I'm going to start up Great Big Sea and have to not only fight off dreams of a tall pint, but also the urge to sing along at the top of my lungs.

I'm also counting the minutes until 8.