There's no denying I've been a bad blogger, and all I have to say about it is that it has recently been drawn to my attention that I am a workaholic...so much so that a couple weeks ago, I ordered some scrambled eggs from the cafe at work on my way into the office, paid for it, ran up to get set up on my Microsoft Word, swore I collected it 15 minutes later when it was ready, ripped my way through it with glee and was told the day after that it was still there in a bag behind the counter waiting for me. Now if I've been working so hard that I'm imagining eating things (and doing god knows what else - shitting? fucking?), then I should be catwalk ready and bound by now, but bulges one through seven on my stomach suggest otherwise.
Today, however, for some miraculous reason, they've let me off early - Tuesday is print day so we typically listlessly roam the office hallways well past 8pm waiting for fuck-ups to pop up on the printer and wondering if anyone would miss us if we skipped over to the hotel next door for a shot of tequila. So here I am..for you. But where the fuck are you? No more Japanese spammers, please! I want actual reader commentary!
Fuck, I'm a mess. I have actually been forced into accepting that a holiday is long overdue for me. Susan Miller has foreseen a few days of rest for me this month. Umm, really? Where? Apparently, it's this weekend so I am now grumbling as I book myself and The Fox in for a retreat.
Other things I'm doing: hardcore hatha yoga by candlelight (found an amazing teacher), plastic bottle recycling (or rather I have a heap of bottles under my bed pretty much getting the same treatment as regular waste, AND I am now being referred to as the girl with the drinking problem at work (probably a double entendre) - people are sneaking empty bottles onto my desk while I'm away on one of my overly long leaks), carpooling, home finishings shopping, obsessing over this article and feeling more and more pointless with every paragraph.
And now instead of enjoying the softness of my fat ass as I sit on it doing nothing (which I never have the liberty of doing on a Tuesday), I am going to go to the gym, then walk (not carpool) over to yoga class. See you on the skinny side.
I'm a writer, apparently, and this is what I like: The Beats Generation, Skeletons, Japanese Rope Bondage, (Bikram) Yoga, Languages, Lists, Hanif Kureishi, Sweaters, Metal/Punk/Electro, Sunglasses, Stationary Supplies, Asian Culture, Alternative Lifestyles, Black, Purple, Silver, Gold, California, Sleep, Vegetables, Starbucks, Fashion, Sushi, Money and staying up late