meh

I have just gotten off one of the busiest stretches of work in a looong while. At least since November. It is just a temporary lull, really, until next week, when it starts all over again. This week was flush with events, write-ups, dealing with press, press releases, deadlines, couriers who don’t show up at the appointed time, courier services that don’t have your pickup on file, ad specs, bleeds, photography, business cards that litter my desk and will never be organized no matter how much I mean to, preparing packets for meetings that will run out because some people can’t be bothered to RSVP to an e-mail for chrissakes, budget bullet points, the Albany trip, compiling survey results, stuffing breakfast meeting bagels in my purse because I knew there would be no lunch, seminars, orientations, mailing lists, bawling out reporters and feeling the self-loathing pulsing through my veins as I do so, and peas. Too many peas in my dinner. Which lead to the inevitable marital discord.

My greatest misstep was settling into episodes 1 to 3 of Footballer’s Wives last night. I had gotten home at about 9, after dragging myself and the other guy who worked too much this week out of the office. I saw it had come via Netflix and knew – KNEW! – I should not succumb, for I have stories to clean up and write and a very early morning meeting. I watched them all, all but episode 4 (which I am not angry I didn’t suffer through so I could return it and possible have a new disk by Saturday) and fell asleep around 1:30 in the morning.

I am listening to this to take my heart rate down before I go home and die.