I'm not going to get out of this office for hours.
I'm out of cigarettes.
If I don't pull off a minor miracle, I may need to plan a meeting in NYC next week. Yes, gentle reader, the RNC is next week. That, in and of itself, is cause to ponder whether the real choice of the day should be homicide or suicide. Take that any way you wish.
I'm so tense, various body parts are intermittently becoming numb.
My tub suddenly stopped up last night and my landlady can't get someone over to fix it until Wednesday. I can't take a fucking shower at my apartment until Wednesday. On a possibly positive note, perhaps this is the impetus I needed to get my ass to the gym.
Also, I'm way tanked on coffee. Which is necessary considering that I got three hours of sleep last night.
/ whiny rant