07/19/2005 - 12:12 p.m. | trustfully

I am not sure I enjoy any period in my life where my expended time and energy is directly proportional to windowed envelopes. See, I have to mail out these inspection letters, and normally I have envelopes with clear plastic windows, so I just fold the letter sort of crazy, and I can make either the landlord or tenant's name appear there. Not a big deal. However, I have apparently sucked the building dry as far as windowed envelopes go, though, so now I am forced to hand-address each letter, an annoying slow task at best. I can't get as much work done - because I keep mentally adding in the time it will take to write out all these people's stupid names.

It doesn't feel like I have enough time for much of anything lately. Between Missy constantly being around or me being constantly around Missy, work, and that annoying occasional need for feeding or sleep, all my nerdly pursuits are stacking up around me. Have to read the new Harry Potter, have to construct an elaborate campaign from nowhere, have to write about what stuff I did do, and on and on and on and on. Not to mention that my room is now an approximate ant farm, and I haven't had the minutes to shift some shit around for God knows how long. The queen will be rising in my underwear pile, I'm sure.

But, we keep our spirits up as best we can. I scan the radio stations, looking for Bachman Turner Overdrive's "Takin' Care of Business" because that is all-inspiring. And today I caught a nice chunk of "Hungarian Dance No. 5" How did I know it was "Hungarian Dance No. 5"? I am not entirely sure (possibly its close similarities to "Mambo No. 5"?), but I knew it nonetheless.

I think I might be in slightly better spirits if they actually paid me for the work I'm doing (or not doing) here. They can get five ugly-as-sin denim shirts here for me in four days, but I'm still paycheckless. More to come this evening, I assume.