Craig Ferguson is having a bad night - the lights are off for some reason in his studio, and so he had to pick up his quill and write to Leslie Moonves (president of CBS) asking him to pay the bills so that he could have power again. Also, he just started singing 'Milkshake', which was pretty awesome. He also told a nice story about how he was on a catamaran and somehow got his swimming trunks ripped off his body - since he's Scottish and the hero of my romance novel is Scottish, I'm getting dirty ideas.
There is no time to act on those dirty ideas, though; it's one a.m., and while I wasn't horribly productive at work (I had meetings most of the day, and spent the rest getting 'trained' by Gyre, which meant watching him do some stuff while we made fun of each other), I still felt motivated enough to come home, watch an hour or so of 'Scrubs' as a break, and then work pretty much straight from 8pm until now. I feel so much more on top of my work as a result, which is great. I also put 'The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou' in the background, which was as awesome as it always is. Now, though, I should really go to bed - the rest of the week is going to be pure chaos. I have an offsite tomorrow night, plans to watch a movie with Claude on Wednesday, dinner plans on Thursday, and then it's the weekend again. Sheesh. Goodnight!
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