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I'm tired, it's Thursday, I have about 30 CDs packed for a six hour drive. I am going Home for the weekend and in order to do this I've been working late so I can leave early tomorrow to drive home. But last night I stayed until 8:45, that would be twelve and a half hours after I got there, in order to work on stuff for a trial that started today. And so I'm getting a few hours of overtime and that's nice because it'll pay for my gas but it's terribly annoying because I missed out on a night of writing and I don't know why but that just really really irritates me. I already feel like I'm behind because of that week when the stinkin Guest was here ARGHHH, and then last night I had to work late, and then I'll be gone all weekend, and then there is another guest or two coming, and ARGHHHH. I'm serious, it's pissy, I'm pissy about it. And National Masturbation Month starts on Sunday and I'm going to be really busy! All month! My colleagues, the honorable judges for the Exciting Spring Writing Contest, have flown in and we were all ready to judge the latest round of entries, but now I'm leaving, so they'll have to spend the weekend alone doing touristy things in Seattle. WHAT THIS MEANS TO YOU is that if you are lazy and lame you can STILL enter! Next week we will have the final awards ceremony (it's a formal affair, don't bother coming in jeans, you won't get in) and I will link to all the other entries. ALSO, if you have won but haven't sent me your address yet, YOU MUST DO SO. It is a REQUIREMENT, unless you don't want to. And now here is the final installment of my National Poetry Month poettes: Gray Lady I. Sunday night concerts suck II. Road Trip Gray Lady Returns Goodbye, happy weekend, I just successfully ate pizza, the last time I ate some I burned the roof of my mouth, the end.
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