middle of the night super sundries

[rm]

It is 2:17am and I am just leaving work.

I miss Patty.

It's fucking cold.

All my creative projects need me, but I'm in no time, no space land for at least another 24 hours.

I HAVE to work on the plane to LA. I HAVE to. Which is something I find nearly impossible as a rule. But I HAVE to.

Oh god. Los Angeles. I don't understand you. I don't really like you. But at least you're warm and have pink drinks.

OH MY GOD, WHY DO I NOT HAVE THE PIECE OF INFO I NEED SO I CAN DECIDE WHAT TO DO ABOUT MY HAIR? (Okay, I'm like person 20,753 in line for this info, but still, it's supposed to be out by now, and it's not).

OH FUCK ME, I NEED TO MAKE A PHONE CALL ABOUT A FELLINI THING. (Yeah, it's true, but mostly I typed that just because my life allows me to type things like that and it's totally gorgeous).

Hey did you know the guy who administered TARP is YOUNGER THAN ME? What is up with that? I'm trying to picture myself administering TARP. Then I start laughing.

Man, it's really late, and I'm really punchy.

Oh yeah. And I'll have announcements about stuff soon (by which I mean "this week" and in fact mean actually this week (italics for those who know what I'm still being cranky about)). So yay.

Comments

[gwyd.livejournal.com]

McClellan was significantly younger than me when they put him in charge of the Union Army. he;'d never been in a battle.

These things boggle me.