foomart foomart

So fuckin' tired. Not enough hours in the day, days in the week, meals I can eat, days before taxes are due. All I want to do is eat and sleep and I'm not able to do remotely as much as I want to of either of those things. There's way more work than time. I sure do like the paychecks and all that but damn, this work thing is for suckas. Fortunately, the end is in sight for the magazine stuff, and an evening just opened up this week due to a cancelled production meeting with DG, so I'll be able to knock that out, I hope. The day job wants to see more of me, but I've got to get someone to cover me at the dojo. This is a bad time to do that, because I'm finally negotiating how many classes I'm getting for all these hours I've put in there. It would be good for me to stay in good standing there... especially since I seem to have earned an actual nickname after our class outing last weekend. (Paintball! Fun! But no time to write about it now.) On the other hand, the day job wants to pay me to learn a new skill, and I love learning new things. And it's only for a couple of weeks. Ugh. I've got to go to bed. I'll think about it all in the morning. I'm fried. I need some free time soon; those bills aren't going to stop teetering any time soon, and my cancelled credit card is wreaking havoc as all the automatic payments which usually go on that card are coming around and bouncing. It ain't pretty. Fuckit. Bed now. 12:14 AM