I'm a very dull boy this week; there has been space in my life for v. little beyond work. But I'm mostly happy, if only because I don't have time to stop and think. Today was another brutal slog, compounded by spending close to four hours commuting, which should be illegal. I left the house at 6:45am and was at my desk at 8:45am (taking the shuttle is better for productivity, but involves more walking/schlepping around on either end of the trip), and then I left my desk at 4:30 and was home at 6:25 (which would have been slightly better had I not had to make a long detour for gas). The rain has turned everyone into idiots again, and I'm not psyched about driving down again tomorrow, but I shall survive.
Once I reached the office, I ate my salary in smoked salmon, then had meetings pretty much straight from 9am to 4pm, with a brief break that I used to straighten up my desk rather than doing anything more pressing. But there was champagne in the middle, so that's not bad. Then I came home, was home for five minutes, and immediately left to a) buy new workout clothes (my favorites are embarrassingly worn at this point) and b) eat at my favorite place and write some of Thorington's book. The workout clothes buying was successful, I wrote three and a half pages of Thorington while limiting myself to only one glass of wine (shocker), and I caught up on the lives and scandals of all my favorite waiters, so it was all lovely.
And now I must sleep so I can do it all again tomorrow, although I'm adding Alyssa and likely subtracting the wine. Goodnight!
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