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Feb. 25th, 2006 09:48 amI'm at work. Again. On a Saturday! I woke up at 8 am on a Saturday! I'm too young to be doing real world shit like this!
Whinge, moan, complain.
On the plus side, 6,000 words in the novel yesterday. BOO and YAH. This is excluding the hundreds of words I got done in random other projects which I didn't count up although they are added in my spreadsheet. Plus, ran errands. Mailed off college loan check (groan) and pill refill form (yay) and went to Toys R Us and did not buy anything! Because the store was GUTTED. The sale must have been going on for a while. They were down to three bins of Winnie the Pooh stuffed animals, shelves and shelves of thes ame three video games and army packs of Uruk-Hai (the boy got some of those for NPCs for his fantasy game) and a few other random little cutesy girly knick-knacks. And everything else that nobody wanted. Then, however, we went to Hobby Lobby and I picked up some paint brushes rather than going all the way out to Nord's, a new huge thing of white primer (which was needed) and a couple small bags of tiny sea shells (which was not but makes for cool decorations on sea creature minis) and a 5$ DVD at Wal-Mart. Ghosts of Mars. Clearly its' time for a Clea Duvall bad movie extravaganza.
Work is, alas, still dead. I am putting in for Hawaii vacation time! And arguing with the boy about it. I shall win, because, dammit, I deserve a couple days extra of vacation if I'm going to be getting up at 7 and going to a conference at bloody 8 am in bloody HAWAII. They couldn't have the conference somewhere boring? Like Normal, Ill? Or ... I can't think of anywhere else boring. Intercourse, Penn.
But yeah. Today, if it's as boring at work as I think its' going to be, will be a day of organizing all my big damn tables and lists and other things I have to write. Back TM responses. This week's TM response! Which, the question is interesting, and the phrasing makes me twitch. Or maybe it's the other way around. I can't think of anything for anyone but Roy. I'd ignore it but SOMEONE insists that I do ALL the topic responses, and you know who you are, and I'm looking at you, buster.
Ugh. Right, it's getting towards that time. Work. Bleh. I want more sleep.
Whinge, moan, complain.
On the plus side, 6,000 words in the novel yesterday. BOO and YAH. This is excluding the hundreds of words I got done in random other projects which I didn't count up although they are added in my spreadsheet. Plus, ran errands. Mailed off college loan check (groan) and pill refill form (yay) and went to Toys R Us and did not buy anything! Because the store was GUTTED. The sale must have been going on for a while. They were down to three bins of Winnie the Pooh stuffed animals, shelves and shelves of thes ame three video games and army packs of Uruk-Hai (the boy got some of those for NPCs for his fantasy game) and a few other random little cutesy girly knick-knacks. And everything else that nobody wanted. Then, however, we went to Hobby Lobby and I picked up some paint brushes rather than going all the way out to Nord's, a new huge thing of white primer (which was needed) and a couple small bags of tiny sea shells (which was not but makes for cool decorations on sea creature minis) and a 5$ DVD at Wal-Mart. Ghosts of Mars. Clearly its' time for a Clea Duvall bad movie extravaganza.
Work is, alas, still dead. I am putting in for Hawaii vacation time! And arguing with the boy about it. I shall win, because, dammit, I deserve a couple days extra of vacation if I'm going to be getting up at 7 and going to a conference at bloody 8 am in bloody HAWAII. They couldn't have the conference somewhere boring? Like Normal, Ill? Or ... I can't think of anywhere else boring. Intercourse, Penn.
But yeah. Today, if it's as boring at work as I think its' going to be, will be a day of organizing all my big damn tables and lists and other things I have to write. Back TM responses. This week's TM response! Which, the question is interesting, and the phrasing makes me twitch. Or maybe it's the other way around. I can't think of anything for anyone but Roy. I'd ignore it but SOMEONE insists that I do ALL the topic responses, and you know who you are, and I'm looking at you, buster.
Ugh. Right, it's getting towards that time. Work. Bleh. I want more sleep.