I am craving the weekend!
Apr. 9th, 2010 02:11 amFor I shall sleep like a log through all of it. Except for the short bits I get up and run about happily in.
I've been a dreadful shirker of everything from reading fic to sending birthday wishes (I will catch up! Happy generalised everything!), though have been exceptionally accomplished in house cleaning and guest management, as well as magazine problem solving. However I am so tired that I have turned to nanna naps and a failure to accomplish anything more complex than knitting gloves at the end of the day. Total written word count on stories in the last week? About 150 -- DISMAL! State of bags under eyes? EPIC!
Allow me to demonstrate the situation using images of my favourite person from history.
Normal Brammers gives off this sort of vibe (The Darnley Portrait):

While this is what I look like today:

As a side note, my personal nickname for the second portrait has always been the Damn Me I Should Have Had You Killed Portrait.
I've spent the last 10 days at work swearing because a knitting pattern that we're reprinting was bollocks and needed rewriting in part and I could not get hold of the woman whose company published it to get the okay for my reworking. I have three or four days of patience, but after that, it's swear like a sailor and damn them all time.
Today I had just been ranting that clearly the woman in question existed to vex me and that I would never again buy her sexy and seductive yarns because clearly they were all part of a giant conspiracy to make me into a crazy person when the phone rang. It was her. She was delightful and thanked me sincerely for my work and congratulated me on my excellent rewriting, which she called perfect and superior. I assured her it was nothing and that I was only too happy to help and looked forward to this evening when I would be using some of her lovely DK yarn in the gloves I am working on and aren't all we knitting types just working towards more beautiful projects? Thanks so much.
I then hung up and threw my hands in the air . 'HA!' I said. 'OH YES! I AM RIGHT! I AM GODLIKE! IN YOUR FACE, KNITTING PATTERN!'
I turned around. Several of my colleagues were standing there. 'You,' said one, 'are that unusual thing: a really bad winner.'
They know me well.
I've been a dreadful shirker of everything from reading fic to sending birthday wishes (I will catch up! Happy generalised everything!), though have been exceptionally accomplished in house cleaning and guest management, as well as magazine problem solving. However I am so tired that I have turned to nanna naps and a failure to accomplish anything more complex than knitting gloves at the end of the day. Total written word count on stories in the last week? About 150 -- DISMAL! State of bags under eyes? EPIC!
Allow me to demonstrate the situation using images of my favourite person from history.
Normal Brammers gives off this sort of vibe (The Darnley Portrait):

While this is what I look like today:

As a side note, my personal nickname for the second portrait has always been the Damn Me I Should Have Had You Killed Portrait.
I've spent the last 10 days at work swearing because a knitting pattern that we're reprinting was bollocks and needed rewriting in part and I could not get hold of the woman whose company published it to get the okay for my reworking. I have three or four days of patience, but after that, it's swear like a sailor and damn them all time.
Today I had just been ranting that clearly the woman in question existed to vex me and that I would never again buy her sexy and seductive yarns because clearly they were all part of a giant conspiracy to make me into a crazy person when the phone rang. It was her. She was delightful and thanked me sincerely for my work and congratulated me on my excellent rewriting, which she called perfect and superior. I assured her it was nothing and that I was only too happy to help and looked forward to this evening when I would be using some of her lovely DK yarn in the gloves I am working on and aren't all we knitting types just working towards more beautiful projects? Thanks so much.
I then hung up and threw my hands in the air . 'HA!' I said. 'OH YES! I AM RIGHT! I AM GODLIKE! IN YOUR FACE, KNITTING PATTERN!'
I turned around. Several of my colleagues were standing there. 'You,' said one, 'are that unusual thing: a really bad winner.'
They know me well.