Magazines are all about deadlines. Certain things have to be done, out of our hands and onto the next, by a certain day or else the sun doesn’t rise. Not really, but you get the idea.
Anyway, by yesterday, all my work was finished and shipped along to the next stop in its journey to the newsstands. This means that for the next week or two, I’ll have jack to do, and must try to find ways to look very busy doing it.
Today, I used my time to:
-organize my files (well, I thought about it at least)
-clean up my workspaces (I recycled some paper and deleted my no-longer-necessary worker files)
-created a handy chart of mac keystrokes for typing special characters (such as: option + shift + p for yummy âˆ!)
-wonder if someone bothered to tell boston that summer isn’t over yet and fall just needs to stay the eff away for a few more weeks please
-listen to music (see song of the day, by bjork and my bf thom yorke and also be sure to appreciate my clever naming convention)
-stretch my stiff for absolutely no reason muscles
–develop a new ic (internet crush for you unhipsters), which could turn into something altogether unhealthy, as he’s: irish (be still my gentle); a devoted father and “unmarried husband” (my phrase); irreverent, smart and prolific (so far); swears like a…well, like a irish fellow; funny in all the ways that tickle my fancies; and also, did I mention he’s irish? As longtime readers around here know, I’ve got a bit of a thing for those accented ireland boys. As much time as I spent at his site, I couldn’t find any photos of the writer, which is alright, because that leaves it all up to my brain, and wowza! what a fox.
I did some actual job-related work as well, but very little, I’ll have you know. I can’t help it if I’m efficient at my job and do everything quickly. Don’t punish me for being fantastic. Even when I try to work slow, I still get things done. Work christa is totally different than any other christa. I’m sure many people are the same way. I’m okay with that.
