So this weekend was not good.
I mean, there are worse weekends, but it was not good.

It started friday night with me blowing gobs of jelly (actual donut jelly) out of my nose and middled with me taking my mother to the hospital at 8AM on saturday and ended with me lying on the sofa completely unable to move in any direction (and effectively blowing off Splinky...sorry splinky) on Sunday night.

So yeah. Not a great weekend.

Somehow though, I managed to pull it all together this morning and actually come to work looking very cute, cute new really soft cord pants, sexy flowy hippy shirt, matching jewerely, hair very cute, and I even managed to paste on a little make up while driving in because I had a ton of meetings today.

I got to work and checked my messages and my first meeting of the day cancelled which I more than half expected. Then my phone rings and two more meetings are cancelled. The only thing that wasn't cancelled was the one meeting with the KOI which isn't even a meeting but more of a "let me come over and have lunch with you because I have nothing better to do and haven't seen you in a long time." kind of thing and will just distract me and stop me getting anything done.

A quick side note which you can skip if you are a regular or know me in real life: KOI = King of Incompitence = my boss. Useless.

And we're back. The biggest problem with this is that I have 2 actual important work things to accomplish today, both are sizable, and I have 2 important only to me personal things I want to accomplish today, one sizable the other less so.
Dobie (coworker) is not here today and I have two students so they will amuse each other and not bug me. I COULD get all 4 things done, plus play in diaryland and dig for more pics of Grissom in his tux from this weeks upcoming CSI (yum). But the KOI is coming...in less than an hour.

He will stay too long, have nothing to say and when he leaves I will be frustrated. I will attempt to do some of the worky junk but then realize how little time I have and decide to reward myself for not killing him with doing the personal stuff.

What can I do?

Oh, hey, before I forget, it has come to my attention that some of my favorite diaries are by people who actually write their entries ahead of time, in word or whatever, then paste them into the little box. Like they're crafting them, editing them, perfecting them.

That never even occured to me. I'm certain you can tell. This is such a stream of conscious thing for me, I can't imagine fighting it into some tight little ball of conformity. I mean, don't get me wrong, the people I'm refering to have diaries I never miss, they're really great reads, but geez, I don't even do that when I'm writing writing, why would I do it when I'm just vomiting the contents of my brains into a little box?

That last part was a visual just for Splink. Because she doesn't deserve the warnings that I put in just for her, so from now on the bombs will just be there, waiting.

It could be anywhere Splink...you'll just never know.

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