Every editor reading this just felt a chill go down her spine.
Today has been busy and annoying in turns. My manager and I just shake out heads at each other, baffled at the things we're being asked to do. At one point I had to get up and leave the building and get ice cream, because if I didn't, I was going to take a pair of scissors and hunt down some of these chuckleheads and stab them to death. And make paper dolls of their flesh!
Busy is better than not busy. I finally am getting back to the point, actually, of having too much to do, which always helps me focus on work. I like an overloaded plate, having a lot to balance so that things don't slide off. I wish I could retain my focus past five o'clock though. That's when the brain fog rolls in, regardless of how much I've had to eat, or how else I might feel. I can't focus any longer. I wish I could believe that I'm going to go home and write, but...yeahhhh.
Have pretty much stopped watching Charmed, by the way, which used to kill that first hour after I got home from work. They bumped too many eps and made a hash of continuity, and I got irritated. I thought about trying to catch up during the morning syndicated run, which was running a season or so behind and was unlikely to be pre-empted by basketball, but it seemed a lot of effort for a low return. Cole's sweaty, salmon-lipped charms were not enough to enslave me.
Diet Coke, plastic slinky, stomach ache, ennui.
