The Four Legged Zoo

So four is the magic number of the week, my friends:

4= the number of days a single stapler was placed in my mailbox at work
4= the number of said staplers on the shelf behind my desk, waiting for a home
4= the number of days that 45 at 59 has been blocked from all directions for absolutely no reason whatsoever
4= the mph one has to enter 45 from 59 when the ramp is packed from said blockage
4= the length in inches of the eyeliner pencil also left in my box with the 4th stapler
4= the number of Office Space quotes I rattled off while walking back to my office with the staplers in hand
4= the number of days I've had to figure out what to do about the influx of children this past weekend
4= the number of advil taken every two hours for pain in my back from doing too many jigs at an audition last night
4= the number of hours I will have to be measured this weekend for the costume for my new Irish Dance gig
4= twice the number of hours I've ever danced any sort of Irish dance in my life, yet I still aced the audition--what does this say about the company? I dunno.
4= the number of OJ glasses I've had today. I'm craving it.
64= the number of hours worked last week.
4= the number of glasses of wine I intend to consume with Glinda at the Harp tonight (to kill the pain)