My life. So glamorous and sexy.
So in the past week and a half I've been online pretty much to do RP stuff and a few quick skims of the flist and that's about it. Thank God for Twitter is all I have to say. I nearly had a heart attack when it went down last week since it appears to be my primary source of communication lately.
Work blew up unexpectedly on me this week thanks to a superior deciding that we Must Do A Major Project Now which is intensely crazymaking but also a good chance for me to get a leg up a bit in office politics which I hate but is alas a neccessity in my workplace, and I've been spending every free moment I have (and even rather a few not-free moments to be honest) trying to finish my (insert expletive of your choice here) long-overdue Snarry Games fic which, no, is not finished yet, thank you very much, despite my extension being up on Friday and I may be >this close< to tears on that because the closer I get to the finish line the more my writing time seems to disappear into other responsibilities.
Although if you want to know how well I can multitask, I did manage to do a huge chunk of said Major Project, as well as compile/sort/graph/interpret-for-Luddites a monthly website report today, all while doing an RP thread via my cell phone (which I hate doing because it's a pain in the arse, but 'twas a necessity--sometimes RPing realtime can be damned inconvenient), and scribbling out 1,000 words of Snarry during breaks when I absolutely could not look at the damn computer one more minute. Fear me.
Anyway. Long story short. Massively behind on everything. AGAIN. Trying to catch up as quickly as I can, but that's not going so well. Sort of stressed out, to be honest. Probably not going to be around much until this fic's done. Have indulged myself tonight by ordering a corn-and-red-onion pizza. Off to eat, imbibe a great deal of caffeine, and then write moar fic until time to fall into bed, sleep a few hours, then get back up and throw myself back into work. Disliking this whole being-a-grownup/have-to-pay-rent thing intensely.
Please to be sending the fabulous-and-witty Draco Malfoy my way anytime. I can put him to work.
P.S. Discovered this morning that if you accidentally sit on a straightening iron and are too exhausted to realise it for a moment, you will a) singe your favourite pajamas and b) blister your bum. PSA of the day? Don't sit on straightening irons, kids. Bad idea.
Work blew up unexpectedly on me this week thanks to a superior deciding that we Must Do A Major Project Now which is intensely crazymaking but also a good chance for me to get a leg up a bit in office politics which I hate but is alas a neccessity in my workplace, and I've been spending every free moment I have (and even rather a few not-free moments to be honest) trying to finish my (insert expletive of your choice here) long-overdue Snarry Games fic which, no, is not finished yet, thank you very much, despite my extension being up on Friday and I may be >this close< to tears on that because the closer I get to the finish line the more my writing time seems to disappear into other responsibilities.
Although if you want to know how well I can multitask, I did manage to do a huge chunk of said Major Project, as well as compile/sort/graph/interpret-for-Luddites a monthly website report today, all while doing an RP thread via my cell phone (which I hate doing because it's a pain in the arse, but 'twas a necessity--sometimes RPing realtime can be damned inconvenient), and scribbling out 1,000 words of Snarry during breaks when I absolutely could not look at the damn computer one more minute. Fear me.
Anyway. Long story short. Massively behind on everything. AGAIN. Trying to catch up as quickly as I can, but that's not going so well. Sort of stressed out, to be honest. Probably not going to be around much until this fic's done. Have indulged myself tonight by ordering a corn-and-red-onion pizza. Off to eat, imbibe a great deal of caffeine, and then write moar fic until time to fall into bed, sleep a few hours, then get back up and throw myself back into work. Disliking this whole being-a-grownup/have-to-pay-rent thing intensely.
Please to be sending the fabulous-and-witty Draco Malfoy my way anytime. I can put him to work.
P.S. Discovered this morning that if you accidentally sit on a straightening iron and are too exhausted to realise it for a moment, you will a) singe your favourite pajamas and b) blister your bum. PSA of the day? Don't sit on straightening irons, kids. Bad idea.