Ever So Slightly DisgruntledAll day yesterday I kept trying to get back here to tell you all about my Night With Dame Edna, while it was still fresh in my mind. But those bastards at work actually kept me busy all day with real work!
Actually, I was bemired in a project that I should have been doing all along, and kept putting off, so it's really my own fault. I've been writing meeting minutes for the last five meetings, which I should do as soon after the meeting as possible and before the next meeting. But again with the Busy, I haven't had a chance. Writing minutes is no walk in the park, let me tell you. It's difficult and time-consuming. It requires me to look over my notes and anyone-else-who-was-there's notes, try to remember exactly what went on, discern the gists of fifteen different people's (often completely unrelated) statements, encapsulate those gists and organize them, then write it all out... without mentioning names, if possible. Boiling two hours of rambling discussions and disorganized debate down to three pages of formal paragraphs in outline form is not easy... even for a literary genius.
Not that I consider myself a literary genius. I'm just saying. No hubris here, dear three Misses Fate. Go ahead and put away those lighting bolts, m'kay? Or chuck them at John Ashcroft.
Then on top of trying to write these minutes, and wanting to tell you all about Dame Edna and my night therewith, Mr Boss-Guy kept asking me for letters and whatnot, and the phone was ringing off the hook, and people kept asking me questions, and I actually got landed with yet more responsibilities while I was sitting there minding my own business, and my To Do list is just piling up in every direction. There's a fine line between challenging me and overworking me, and that line is coming up fast.
Well, anyway, I'll tell you all about Dame Edna tomorrow, or later today, or whenever I get the opportunity. In the meantime, enjoy this little puddle of pulchritude from my collection: