I forgot to order the latte decaf. I realize it is only 11:30 and in the scope of things, that isn’t late. But this is how my sleep cycle gets off. First one night late, then the next later. Ugh. Until I’m totally nocturnal. Except that I have work on Tuesday, that I’ll be late for, because I had caffeine after 2PM on Sunday.
What I should do–is go to bed. Take the Phillip Roth I’m reading and go to bed. Instead my computer is on and I’m on Friendster. Why? This is no place for me to be hanging out. I’m there, because when I picked my book back up to enter edits–I realize that I didn’t really edit. There are 30 pages with only two things corrected. So I’m going to have to get someone to read it for me, because I’m obviously not seeing a damn thing.
Then I checked the online mag that I wrote three pieces for and saw that they credited one of the editors with my essay. Which I’m sure was a mistake, but it has be on the annoyed side. I can’t send out a celebratory email saying, “Go and see my essays!” because the byline isn’t mine. The words are, but the author’s name isn’t. You’ll all recognize the story, you’ll remember when I told the story the first time, but it doesn’t have my name.
So I’m not editing, I’m not cleaning, I’m on stupid friendster trying to up my friends list. Cause I’m caffienated and bored.