May 16th, 2002

Carravaggio

Ow Ow Ow Ow...


Ack, ow, pass me a hot water bottle. I thought I felt something stirring downstairs that wasn't just the sight of Wesley tied up and tortured in last night's Angel. Technically, I should be at home today wallowing in a warm bed watching Lex. But due to it only being three weeks since my last wallow I'm regretfully out of flex days and givenn a choice between waiting for hours down at the local clinic (qv the gaol, the aylum and the hard core council estate) and being doubled over in agony at my desk trying to write that report, I chose the later. Though I've barely worked on more than a paragrapgh as there's more doubling over in agony than I'd hoped for.

And it just hasn't been my day. The bus zoomed straight past me today, because, again, I wanted to polish off that Wes fic. Every damn time. I ask you. So I had to wait for over an hour in darkness, fog, rain, cold and then sunshine. Gak. I'm still going home early tonight. I feel like crap and I wanna snuggle into bed with a hot water bottle and watch more of my latest care package. I was thoroughly enjoying the Roswell episode on tape #1 and I was thiking, wa-hey, the old Sherriff is making a play for Michael now, the old dog, then no, he's back on Max in a big way and it's oh so slashy and disturbing then eeep...

Guess I'll be racing home to watch Roswell again tonight then.

Whimper, this is really getting bad, mellow yellows (mersyndols) notwithstanding. Another ordeal to endure. At least it's not Saturday. Thankyou for that. Don't know how I'm gonna get this report done. I'm in too much pain to type and any more Mersies and I'll be incapable of typing. I'm screwed.


 

Carravaggio

(no subject)

Arrgh, it hurts it hurts, make it stop, as Monkey used to complain. And my usual mantra of "Edinburgh Castle" isn't working. You see I once raced up the Royal Mile and all over the castle while very unwell, unwell enough for Scottish Rail staff to take me under their wing at the station, but that was the castle, and while less important than finishing this report, it was more motivational, somehow.

Staggered out for a cup of tea and there was mother with my grande chai latte and packet of mersyndols just like I'd begged for (as she was coming into Parra anyway). Just when you despair they do something so super nice...

I was really feeling bad but I managed to crash an office BBQ - and it was quite a Get Smart route to get to it to, up this elevator,through that door, tis gate, up those stairs... - and made off with some sausages and cake it I feel much better now. Got some of the report done and had some wonderful emails. I don't get much feedback from my stories, but when I do, it's golden.J. Especially my brand new friend from somewhere near Baltimore. Wonderful convesations of shred interests. I nearly choked on my tea when she mentioned Rob Lowe must have made some evil pact because he's not aged. She's gotten me back for the Earl Grey incident now. J

Will go home very soon and early but I think I'll have another cup of tea and miss the 3.30 bus. The lunatics running up and down the aisle yesterday screeching to themselves were just a bit too much. Must finish a bit more of that report, happily numb or no, though that song they just played, sounded like a Clark/Lex song. Mmm, I need another Smallville fix. Especially now that Roswell is no more. I loved Roswell. Pout. Whimper. When it was good it was really really good. Okay, when it sucked it really, really sucked, but so does Buffy but no one is ever allowed to criticise Buffy.