Out of the tour and into the HOLIDAYYYYYYYYS
There's a Q3 book running on my bigass printer, a few more in process, one started and finished its complete run today, and way too many not even started thanks to people just not getting us the stuff I need to do them. It's been one hell of a hectic day today. A week after stumbling back into the office, I think I'm finally Back At Work.
My rooms are still a ridiculous mess, instruments haven't even been unpacked yet, and now I'm forced to worry myself about getting my affairs in order for this coming weekend. Tonight will have to be laundry and packing since tomorrow is pre-prepping the tofurkey and stuffing (being made from scratch this year because I'm apparently insane) and Umlaut-ing. Wednesday might or might not be a half-day depending on the workload, either way the plan is to head straight for Chesapeake whenever it is I'm able to roll out. Unless I have to keep everything in the fridge at home and head back for it. Ugh, did not think of that.
And of course, not nearly enough got actually taken care of this weekend. Some major headway on the Bella Morte remix/mashup/majig I'm doing, sure, but nothing nearly Tacit Act enough to justify the schedule. So by the time I put down God of War II last night and crawled into bed I had to deal with my regular Sunday night "the fuck did you even do all weekend?" anxiety mess.
Well, I saw Inglourious Basterds (finally), The Men Who Stare At Goats, Reefer Madness! The Musical, and Manhattan. Hung out with some cool people. Slept, late. And given that Thursday night luckavery and I jogged up to Falls Church and back to watch Amanda Palmer throw it down, I guess I can't be too hard on myself. Take time to breathe, Marshall.
You'd think all this out of town travel would be abhorrent after so much time in a vehicle, but being back in the Batwagon somehow makes it all okay.
My rooms are still a ridiculous mess, instruments haven't even been unpacked yet, and now I'm forced to worry myself about getting my affairs in order for this coming weekend. Tonight will have to be laundry and packing since tomorrow is pre-prepping the tofurkey and stuffing (being made from scratch this year because I'm apparently insane) and Umlaut-ing. Wednesday might or might not be a half-day depending on the workload, either way the plan is to head straight for Chesapeake whenever it is I'm able to roll out. Unless I have to keep everything in the fridge at home and head back for it. Ugh, did not think of that.
And of course, not nearly enough got actually taken care of this weekend. Some major headway on the Bella Morte remix/mashup/majig I'm doing, sure, but nothing nearly Tacit Act enough to justify the schedule. So by the time I put down God of War II last night and crawled into bed I had to deal with my regular Sunday night "the fuck did you even do all weekend?" anxiety mess.
Well, I saw Inglourious Basterds (finally), The Men Who Stare At Goats, Reefer Madness! The Musical, and Manhattan. Hung out with some cool people. Slept, late. And given that Thursday night luckavery and I jogged up to Falls Church and back to watch Amanda Palmer throw it down, I guess I can't be too hard on myself. Take time to breathe, Marshall.
You'd think all this out of town travel would be abhorrent after so much time in a vehicle, but being back in the Batwagon somehow makes it all okay.