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Monday, March 27th, 2006
(no subject)
Monday, March 27th, 2006 08:50 pmAh, home in the daylight, or at least I would have been had I been a little quicker getting my coat on when I tried to leave the office. Still, deep twilight is an improvement upon the Stygian gloom of recent months, so I can't complain.
This week, when I can spare the time least, my moribund social life has risen from the dead like a bloated revenant from Frankenstein's slab. With impeccable timing, the lightning hit the conductor and charged the patchwork corpse with life just as the howling mob of a deadline kicked in the drawbridge and stormed the castle torches alight, demanding to know when I will finish my writing commitment.
Happily, and unlike the good Baron, I have an escape plan, a back door you might say. Through the careful hoarding of annual leave, I might just be able to have my cake and choke on it. I plan to take Friday off and dedicate it to writing, along with much of the forthcoming weekend. One final, concerted push and I can have the last character sheet written and edit the earlier ones as necessary.
I hope.
Why are social engagements like London buses?
This is a rhetorical question; don't feel that you have to explain, but if you can point the howling mob at Castle Dracula across the valley, Victor will be most grateful.
Thanks for listening. Carry on.
This week, when I can spare the time least, my moribund social life has risen from the dead like a bloated revenant from Frankenstein's slab. With impeccable timing, the lightning hit the conductor and charged the patchwork corpse with life just as the howling mob of a deadline kicked in the drawbridge and stormed the castle torches alight, demanding to know when I will finish my writing commitment.
Happily, and unlike the good Baron, I have an escape plan, a back door you might say. Through the careful hoarding of annual leave, I might just be able to have my cake and choke on it. I plan to take Friday off and dedicate it to writing, along with much of the forthcoming weekend. One final, concerted push and I can have the last character sheet written and edit the earlier ones as necessary.
I hope.
Why are social engagements like London buses?
This is a rhetorical question; don't feel that you have to explain, but if you can point the howling mob at Castle Dracula across the valley, Victor will be most grateful.
Thanks for listening. Carry on.
(no subject)
Monday, March 27th, 2006 08:50 pmAh, home in the daylight, or at least I would have been had I been a little quicker getting my coat on when I tried to leave the office. Still, deep twilight is an improvement upon the Stygian gloom of recent months, so I can't complain.
This week, when I can spare the time least, my moribund social life has risen from the dead like a bloated revenant from Frankenstein's slab. With impeccable timing, the lightning hit the conductor and charged the patchwork corpse with life just as the howling mob of a deadline kicked in the drawbridge and stormed the castle torches alight, demanding to know when I will finish my writing commitment.
Happily, and unlike the good Baron, I have an escape plan, a back door you might say. Through the careful hoarding of annual leave, I might just be able to have my cake and choke on it. I plan to take Friday off and dedicate it to writing, along with much of the forthcoming weekend. One final, concerted push and I can have the last character sheet written and edit the earlier ones as necessary.
I hope.
Why are social engagements like London buses?
This is a rhetorical question; don't feel that you have to explain, but if you can point the howling mob at Castle Dracula across the valley, Victor will be most grateful.
Thanks for listening. Carry on.
This week, when I can spare the time least, my moribund social life has risen from the dead like a bloated revenant from Frankenstein's slab. With impeccable timing, the lightning hit the conductor and charged the patchwork corpse with life just as the howling mob of a deadline kicked in the drawbridge and stormed the castle torches alight, demanding to know when I will finish my writing commitment.
Happily, and unlike the good Baron, I have an escape plan, a back door you might say. Through the careful hoarding of annual leave, I might just be able to have my cake and choke on it. I plan to take Friday off and dedicate it to writing, along with much of the forthcoming weekend. One final, concerted push and I can have the last character sheet written and edit the earlier ones as necessary.
I hope.
Why are social engagements like London buses?
This is a rhetorical question; don't feel that you have to explain, but if you can point the howling mob at Castle Dracula across the valley, Victor will be most grateful.
Thanks for listening. Carry on.