Anna S. (eliade) wrote,
Anna S.
eliade

ow.

Having just cut myself loose from work, I have that vague dissatisfied feeling...of needing to work more. There's a point of overwork that comes, when nothing but more work feels right.

On the other hand, that's clearly insane and my hands and wrists and fingers and arms and neck and shoulders and back--basically everything below the crown of my head--are all incredibly sore, so it's time to go offline. Until Monday. At least when it comes to work.

Stupid body.

Heading into the office on the bus this morning, the seats smelled as if large sweaty men had sat naked on them.

On the upside, there was coffee and a scone, and Krispy Kreme donuts, and sisabet's QAF vid, with the good kind of naked sweaty men. When I'd blissed out and couldn't actually watch the vid anymore--having to work and stuff--I played it and listened to the music. Oh, 15-20 times. Then I watched it a few more times coming home on the bus. As one might appropriately say, I'm totally gay for it. Men, dancing, whirling--it might as well be ice cream twisting out in a twirly swirl from one of those machines. I'll just be rubbing it all over my body now. You probably want to avert your eyes.

I'm kind of derailed now. I'm finding it hard to focus on anything else. Everytime I try, my mind is distracted by thoughts of men dancing together, and cuddling, and kissing, and...it's time for me to go lie down, I think. Somewhere other than here, somewhere other than in public where I'm likely to keep dorkifying myself further and further.


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