If I had a rope...

...I'd be at the end of it, you damn betcha.

I spent too much of this weekend trying to bolt words together for work, and finished perhaps a third of what I needed to do.

PARENTHETICAL LET-ME-ENTERTAIN-YOU THOUGHT: I did get next Sunday's Gratuitous Cat photo this morning...and it's a doozy!

So my new estimate is this: given the pace of my writing at the moment, I will have to sit here in front of this damn screen for the next six days to get caught up.

No days off. No distractions.

I could give you a list of things I'd rather be doing -- mainly things some of you get to do regularly, bless you, and everyone else wishes they could do -- but why bother?

Right now, I wish I could be working for someone of the opposite sex who is hot for my ass, and thus doesn't care if I'm good at what I do or not.

Not really. I'm just being bitter.

I'd just like to have some incentive beyond panic and basic survival, some distraction from sitting here pecking away at the keys.

I'd also like to not be angry, which is bad for both my health and creativity.

This reads like a cheap play for sympathy, but it's not. I don't want that. I want what I've earned, what was promised to me. I've done my bit, and more. Sadly, I've done most of it for people who don't give a damn about following through on their promises.

It's raining here, and I should be happy about that. Our rainfall totals are one-fifth what they should be.

But I'm not happy about much of anything right now.

Time to put on my hat and go for a walk.