so here I sit

I am drinking tea and sitting at the keyboard. Today was one of those insane days where I accomplished the impossible yet remained in my pyjamas. I organised a cover photo shoot. That's 15 non-models and 50 dissenting views on what they should wear. The theme of the shoot is innovation. The sub-theme is 'kill the irritatingly little shit who went against his boss' orders and changed the dress code'. So that involved emails that never arrived plus over 30 phone calls. Fun fun fun.

Then I tackled my intern journalist's article. I am really glad he is in Cape Town at the moment because my irritation gave me enough energy to get dressed to go hunt him down. But I am in Johannesburg. At the other end of the country. Lets just call it his lucky day that I am still in said pyjamas.

I did call him. We had words. He is very considered and generally a lovely human being. This did not stop me from wanting to stick toothpicks into his fingertips. The rewrite of the article took me around four hours. That's four fucking hours I desperately needed to write my own articles.

Its 7pm now. I am sitting, like a zombie, in front of the pc. I am drinking tea. I will not watch the news. (Any reportage on Zimbabwe causes immediate high blood pressure.) I will not eat any more of the illicit pizza I had delivered because I couldn't face editing the intern's next article without carbohydrates. I will crochet my stress away and put the alarm on for some ungodly hour when my first worry is a bath and how to extricate myself without disturbing the cat pile.