Tired

Thanksgiving just ended, or at least, it seems like it did. That was hella work. Cooking, cleaning, family, children, me gouging out my eyes and the inevitable last-minute family vacation to the desert, where everyone was tired/drunk/vomiting (from the crappy Salmonella filled food served at the hotel -- and we ate there twice).

Then I started up back at work. Something I don't really talk about because a friend of mine once got her first job on a pilot and she started a blog to chronicle her road to success, including what a shit boss she had. It became a blog that featured the shitiness of her shit boss. The show failed, sadly. And when the shit boss got the call that it was to be cancelled, he decided to trawl the interwebs in search of answers to why his show failed. And, well, he came across my friend's blog. And he read about what a shit boss he was. So shitty was he that he called her in to his office and fired her on the spot.

So, I don't talk about my work much. Or really, ever, I think.

But I did have to mention that I'm doing a wee bit of research for one of my bosses about various diseases. I assume that this is what it must be like to work on HOUSE. My boss, however, wants specific diseases. She's detailed the complete awfulness that she requires. So, I'm creating this binder full of articles of horrid diseases, pictures included, and my inner hypochondriac is now convinced I have some horridly infectious disease from drinking water or eating food or, you know, breathing.

I'm a little tired and run down today. And I have bags under my eyes. And my hair seemed a little thinner. And I think I have a new freckle. And my left leg is cramping up from being tucked under my right one and... I think I might have mitochondrial something something-itis. I'm probably dying as we speak.

Listen, if I don't post here within the next year, call an ambulance.