June 22nd, 2004


Work, work, work

Remember that 'afternoon off' I was supposed to have today? Oh, we have waaaay too much work to let that happen. So I rescheduled mom and dad to come help with the ceiling tomorrow. And am sitting here with NOTHING TO DO because we zipped through the available redlines in an hour flat.


In non-violent protest, I am updating EMG while logging hours. Hah!


And frustrated. Webpage is being odd, so I stopped at nine new entries and paused to try to figure out why some of the connected files aren't updating. (And yet Sylver's problem page is magically updating again... and mine seems to be, too. Now it's migrated to Alex's page and Ursula's page, and it's still on Hanna's page...)

I was hoping for ten, but oh well. Three of 'em are new artists.

Also, bossman came and put more work on my desk, so I guess I should do it. Now that it's midafternoon and I won't get the fricking ceiling finished today.

I'm so bloody *sick* of being so busy. I mean, yes, my job is nice to me (usually!) and pays well, but between the house and the job and the business and even Jake I've got nothing left for myself. I was so looking forward to being finished with the ceiling, which isn't going to happen tonight, now. (We got started last night, at least, and have a handle on what we'll be doing... Probably this afternoon would have finished the job)

I want to be done with one of them already.
Twisty tree

So *that's* what's wrong...

It rather suddenly occurs to me that my back is *killing* me. (Doubtlessly thanks to the ceiling installation adventures of last night.)

Well, that certainly explains my grumpies today. I dare not say a word to my parents or they'll cancel on the darn ceiling work, which I want to do more than I want to sit on the stupid couch and ice my stupid back.

Best take some drugs now, I suppose.

Stupid drugs.