Today was like a return to the bad old days of the day job, back when I slogged nonstop without ever feeling like I was making a dent in my to-do list. In retrospect, I shouldn't have bothered to go into the office - I had a couple of early meetings that I took from home, and then I was quite productive until about noon. But I thought I should put in some face time, so I went down to Mountain View, where I was promptly hideously unproductive and distracted. Then I left at 4:30 so I could go to the post office on an errand I'd been putting off for weeks, so at least that's done.
I was supposed to write tonight, and I did write two pages (over steak and a glass of wine, but it wasn't as magical as my steak and wine writing attempt on Sunday). But I had way too much day job stuff weighing on me to concentrate, so I came home to work. I got roped into planning this summit for my team, which is like a miniature version of the stuff I used to do for the big boss -- which, if you remember, I was quite good at, and yet I kind of sort of hated. So, it's like I'm having a mini-hatefest for a miniature version of my old life. Maybe this is the equivalent of that weird little fetus-like scrap of Voldemort's soul dying under a bench in Harry Potter's version of Kings Cross station - or maybe equating planning a small summit to the dying gasps of a fundamentally evil (and fictional) soul is a wee bit melodramatic.
sssanyway, I need to go to bed - the laptop battery is about to die from all the slogging I did in the past four hours, and I'm a sad camper as a result. Goodnight!
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