In Withdrawal

It's really strange being at work and actually doing nothing but work. I mean, I try to find other things to distract me, but it just isn't the same. I can only gaze at shiny objects for so long before somebody comes in and questions what I am doing as far as "work" goes. At least when talking on msn you can look busy, like you are typing a long important document. That includes happy faces and the occassional donkey...

On the plus side, I am getting freakish amounts of that work stuff done. It's like, I'm on the ball. How did that term ever get coined anyway? It's not very easy to stand on a ball...I can't even sit on my exercise ball without losing my balance. Then again it doesn't say standing, I now realize I ASSUMED it meant standing on the ball. What is "on the ball" then? Can you put your foot on top of it and still be on it? A finger? A hair?!? Are there degrees of being "on the ball"? These are the questions that plague my mind. Be grateful you are not me.

Edinburgh looms in my near future...and I'm scared. I feel I should brush up on my foreign languages...you know...just in case I end up in Africa or something. Maybe I'll meet up with that tribe that talks by making clicking noises with their mouth and thinks coke bottles are the devil. Yeah. That could rival getting drunk on New Years in Edinburgh. (I just had the greatest urge to write "NOT" after that sentence...remember in grade 3 when that was the rage?? "Yeah...you're cool....NOT")

I wonder if I'll be able to finish one thought in this post without going off on a tangeant. What's up with going off on tangeants anyway? They're so like...nah, I can't keep that going.

525,600 minutes...how do you measure...measure a year...

Euan, I once looked up your tour in a guide book at the bookstore and then sat on the floor dreaming of edinburgh and reading about it over and over again. I told you, you're famous. Do you think they'd hire me as like...a lamp post or something??