How my schedule gets me in trouble.

My days are not your days; my times are not your times. When I say late night, you say early afternoon. When you say prime time, I say breakfast. When you say weekend, I say Monday Morning.

I still am never quite sure when a day is supposed to begin. At work, for example, I will work 88% of my eight-hour shift on June 13, but the time will be logged for June 12. And even though the calendar says it's Friday and the company says it's Thursday, for me, since it's my third working day of the week, it's Wednesday.

It's complications like this that lead me into trouble with things like deadlines when I tell IF-Review that, yes, of course I'll have my Anchorhead review finished by Friday, since Friday is the end of the week and the end of the week is Sunday.

Sigh. Back to writing, I guess.

FriNYTX: 20:21. Felt stupid for not getting 17A right away. ThuLATX: 11. FriLATX: 12.

Notice the album of the quarantine organization in our nation's capital.

I've been seeing people talk about mix tapes (Sorry CDs), and it's got me longing for another project. With television showing either reruns or crappy reality shows that make me wish for reruns, I've been playing a lot more music around the house in general. Also, I have yet to "burn" anything on my new computer. So I'm taking a poll for ideas:

[Poll #145586]

Daily calculus.

Going through CDs + amazing day outside = Tablesaw up too late. Goodnight.