|Burning the Candle Right Down the Middle
||[Aug. 4th, 2010|11:42 am]
It's been a hellish couple of weeks and doesn't promise to get any better soon. Decided to sleep in a bit, since I'm craving sleep...so damn much that I find myself unable to make a catchy drug addict reference because I'm so freaking tired that "like a crack whore craves crack" is all I can come up with. Which is APPALLING in its lameness and lack of creativity. |
But seriously. I'd punch a crack whore in the face for a couple of hours of sleep. But. But. But the price of sleeping in is this: Arriving at 7:45am with way more work that HAS to be done today than can possibly BE done today...I arrived to find three burning issues courtesy of the West Coast.
(F-them and their working later. 5pm my time and you need to save it until the next day. No FAIR loading my workplate when I'm already gone.)
I managed to get one of them done, by a 9am meeting where....I was given yet another project that needs to be done in the next two weeks. Back to my desk to start working on the second of the three burning issues that need to be handled before I can even GET to my scheduled work (including a deck that I promised to the customers on MONDAY)...and managed to get it halfway handled before it was time to go to my 9:30 meeting.
Where I got two MORE projects/assignments....to be done in the week and a half. So, by now it's 11am and thanks to phone calls, drop-bys (hey, how come you don't have a chair in your cube for visitors? I don't have time for people who are going to plant themselves, my friend) and the like, I've managed to get through two of the burning issues. One left, three new projects and then I can get started on the EIGHT HOURS of WORK that HAS to be done today.
Yes, I know, soooooo, why are you posting an entry? Dude, if you don't tap the boiler pressure, it will explode. Didn't you read the Shining? Oooh, I wish I had an ax and long empty corridors of hotel rooms to roam.
Please note "empty". You may consider it bad form to use that analogy, considering yesterday's events in my home state. Trust me, my destructive urges run to objects that no one wanted anyway and bags of potato chips.
Although I will slip in this: seriously, until there is a test for impulse control, I want the freaking guns under lock and key at a gun range or your home, unless your job requires it. I will happily take said ax to your "right" to carry. That would make me WAY happier than some empty old hotel filled with creepy ghosts.
Anyway, I have this post about my new avuncular toilets just floating around in my head and I fear it's losing its fun, a little bit every day and I cannot seem to marry the time and the mood to get it done.
Plus the squirrels ate all of my tomatoes. ALL. Stripped the plants of every single green tomato -- all 25 of them. I'm all about tithing to Mother Nature, but apparently Henry the VIII has been reincarnated as a squirrel.