I'm in the office at NAME. It's late - work is getting emailed around more and more slowly. Am I a slave driver? We're virtually finished but now we're fighting our way up the hockey stick. Color printing (all printing, really) is a pain. I miss my new art...thanks be to collegiate art programs, warehouse-driven neglect, and slashed prices. How can you (and by "you" I mean me) ever know how to act? What are you supposed to do; to feel? Is 'personal' not the most impersonal way? I have to quit. One of my stopping conditions is three consecutive questions...adieu!

posted at 12:36 AM - comments