The Grump

Gods, I'm knackered. Slept in this morning, barely made it into work on time (stupid fucking Northern Line; three Bank trains before the Charing Cross one turned up), and now I'm tired and I ache. There are no words for how much I do not want to be here, but here I am, weeding out the Sent folder again. Thankfully there's not a whole lot else to do that can't wait.

Still nothing from the Hollow City people. I'm putting off emailing about it because I don't want to be a nag. Plus right now, I can't be bothered.

No, I did not sleep well last night. It makes me cranky. I'm sure I'll feel better after lunch (skipped breakfast. No time. Stupid fucking Northern Line). At the moment, though, I'd like to just go home and sleep for the next three days. I didn't even have the energy to go through the Changeling sourcebooks I brought with me for the commute (Autumn People and The Enchanted, plus Commoner's Luck that I actually left in my bag by mistake; I meant to leave that one home and bring The Shadow Court with me). Wah.

Daily Duty

Today has not been fun. Today has consisted of going through the Sent Folder of Eternal Agony, weeding out yet more emails that I can only hope I won't need later. While I was in the middle of that, Michael came up to hand me a list of records that hadn't been updated on the computer, so that was ... nothing remotely like a nice change of pace. I understand that some of it is stuff that only I can do, but surely he could have taken the three seconds to correct a couple of typos on dates. And then there's the galling fact that when I forget to update records and card files, I get a bollocking, but some of those cards hadn't been updated and the papers got published in 2004 and you know James won't hear anything about it. Fine, because he isn't doing it anymore, but there's also the stuff that didn't get to copy editing that was originally sent over in June of last year (when, of course, he was doing my job) and so I will get shit for not having seen it for months. Argh. Honestly, James gets away with fucking murder and it gets to me. Some of them, of course, I can't update because nothing's been done with them because, despite having sent the papers to HFE, he has done JACK FUCKING SQUAT WITH THEM.

Incidentally, someone in this office is stealing my T-cards. No kidding. Really. STEALING the fuckers. There is no other explanation for why various of them go conspicuously missing and then Michael gives me shit because there is no card for a manuscript. But there was. I updated it last week. And now it's gone. And it's not on my desk. I don't know if someone in this office is eating them or what, but it's beginning to drive me slightly bugfuck.

And then, of course, there's the post run. Big boxen. Which means that I need to go to the actual post office with cash. Well, at least it gets me the hell out of here.

I'm trying to decide whether I can face pub, basket food and company tonight. I'm supposed to be doing Heffalump Basket Food Night with dodgyhoodoo and weaselbitch but all I really want to do is crawl into bed and not move for awhile. The commute home isn't going to be fun.

I think I have ibuprofen in my handbag. And I know there's coffee around here somewhere... But I should do the post run first.