Anticipation...
Here I sit, mind wandering and wishing that it was much later than it actually is. With just over 33 and 3/4 hours to go until I can at last hold the holy grail of books in my hand, reading to see how everything will end. Who will live, who will die, what happens afterward... who can work with that going on in ones mind? I mean, the boss calls asking for an update on things, and I reply 37 hours, 28 minutes, and 12 seconds. Who cares about how many people want to get their windows washed when at last we are down to a matter of hours, not months and weeks?
And tomorrow, I am getting off work as soon as possible. Promptly at 7, if not a few minutes before, I am out the door, down the elevator, and the 15 minute walk to Borders for the little pre-party, and even if I have to beat up some little 10 y/o in a Quidditch uniform, I am getting my copy. Not really. I wouldn't do that. (Well, maybe I would)