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1�0�1�0�1�0�1�0�0�1 2002-02-19, 2:07 p.m.

A struggle of wills with my bladder


Hi, I'm tired of writing HTML. Sick, tired, bored, cranky, frustrated. My morning was so crazy; people were lined up outside my cubicle, not to shower me with praise and riches, but to throw more work at me. My voice kept getting higher and higher until I sounded like Mariah Carey. It was not a pretty sight.

$58 in massage therapy, down the drain.

Do you ever get so caught up in what you're doing � so ready to just get it over with � that you don't get up out of your chair to go to the bathroom, even when you really, really have to go?

That's what I'm doing right now. And I just had a latte, too.

My coworker is freaking out because there are 159 unread messages in the Webmaster e-mail box, all of which are resumes. Our boss is supposed to be cleaning it out, but he's been a little vacant the past couple of weeks, trying to reclaim his mental health and shed the toxic people from his life. Therapy is wonderful for most things, but for accomplishing what you need to get done at work, it doesn't help much. The year at school that I was seeing a psychologist, I got the worst grades of my entire college career. That was also because I thought it would be fun to take art classes, and I am most certainly not an artist.

Um, I guess I should go pee.





before � after