quod me nutrit me destruit

it's 5am and I must be lonely

because there's no one online.

and I'm too braindead to come up with a smarter title than a paraphrasing of a famous Matchbox20 song.

I've FINALLY reached the end of the bloody essay I was supposed to have finished 10 days ago, decided it was funny that I was putting blogs in additional references and flickr-ing them.

If I sleep now I'll never wake up, as dead to the world as the corpses across the road.
so I'll just hang for 3 hours and read a few mags before hopping down to the printers. 22 pages all up not including dividers, title page, blah blah blah.

bloody pain in the bum/neck/brain/shoulders/wrist/fingers essay.

and when I hand it in, I will sleep like the dead.

***

of spillages and breakages.

Today was almost like old times at work. It used to be a miracle if nothing had been broken by 1pm on a Sunday afternoon. Today, everything was breaking, spilling, flying, going wrong.

In fact, we were making up for lost time.

Madame V managed to spill hot chocolate all over the serving counter, where drinks and desserts were standing.

I somehow managed to crack a saucer in two just by holding it, glasses were dropping like lawn bowls and we must have broken a week's wages worth of suckaos.

Yay us.

posted by sway @ 4:48 AM