Thursday, December 18, 2003

I have Christmas-itis...

In other words, I am quite good for nothing. I am doing a bang-up job at procrastinating, though. In fact, I think I might deserve a black belt in the field. I have a lot of stuff to do. Occasionally I admire the length of my to-do list and then go back to the grueling work of procrastinating. Then I might drift off momentarily into a daydream only to be drawn back to the to-do list, except this time I've thought of something to add to it.

"There, that's six weeks of work due in the next 48 hours." Then, once again, I become impressed by my pretend productivity and promptly drift off into a sugar-laden-Christmas-cookie-induced stupor. Maybe it's the 300,000 grams of saturated fat coursing through my veins that is slowing me down. It makes sense that synaptic transmission would suffer when the viscosity of your body fluids becomes similar to Crisco. Slow, but deliciously crispy on the edges. I'm probably flammable. And feeling quite baked.

I must depart to stare at my list.


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