Lonely, etc.

Gary's in Chicago for the day (a day that began at 4:30 a.m.) and I've no one to talk to. It's not so much that I have anything really interesting to say, but I like being able to pick up the phone and chat for five minutes for no reason.

Not having those five minutes during the day makes me really aware of everything my job isn't right now.

I'll tell you what it IS... 19 catalogs due to design by Friday. And that makes me want to cry. Or give up.

Uncle, already.

I miss my honey.

Also, I'm not ready for my 12-year-old to walk to the pool by herself to meet another 12-year-old friend there when I'm stuck at work and my honey is in Chicago. That makes me very unpopular with her at this present moment. But sorry. Not today. It's summer, read a book. That's what I wish I were doing.

Crashing! And is that smoke I smell?

On Monday, feeling feverish and snotty, I called in sick to work. I don't remember the last time a virus has actually knocked me on my ass (thank you, vitamin D) but there it was.

I returned to my office and realized that all this time I had been just one day removed from complete chaos. The delicate balance, the bargaining and trading of one deadline for another, it had all been upended by one day at home.

There is too much work to accomplish in the hours I have every day that are free of meetings. And every meeting generates more work. I'm in time debt, speeding toward bankruptcy, with no way out.

At that realization, I was overcome by a state of complete mental paralysis.

I closed my door and spent four minutes indulging in an episode of panic. I know it was four minutes because I looked at the clock. Because it felt like four hours.