Aren't YOU a pretty thing? Huh huh huh.

So, I’m pretty sure I don’t ever want to be a zombie. Seriously. I don’t care for runny scrambled eggs, AT ALL, and to be facing a deathtime (not lifetime, obviously) of eating nothing but icky goo-brains? Put a silver bullet though my head or a stake through my heart please, because THAT menu ain't happenin'.

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Someone in our building is firing up what sounds like a jet engine right now. The sound is deafening.

Of course it’s NOT a jet engine, because, really, that would be stupid, but still. Something very loud is happening in the lab next door and I’m hoping it doesn’t end in large pieces of metal shrapnel being forcibly ejected through the lab walls and into my head. Or the heads of any of my coworkers. Even the new girl.

That last statement brought to you by my overwhelming sense of fair play.

If I happen to turn into a zombie though (see above), being decapitated by a high-speed lab accident might be a cool way to go.

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Once again work is threatening to eat me alive, and once again I have dealt with this situation in the most responsible and mature way possible: by ignoring it.

There were things that could have been done this weekend, projects to ‘get ahead on’ vast tracts of updates to conquer, but did I? No, no I did not. What’s the sense in that, after all? Where’s the glamour in being on time, on schedule, on top of things? That’s not sexy nor does it make a good story. Far more interesting is the ‘time I worked for 24 hours straight just to get done what I had a week to do,’ right? Makes for a good war story, as long as nobody alludes to the BACK story of hours and hours spent doing far more interesting things, like playing games on the internet or challenging your liver to a little games of ‘keep up.’

Sadly, the cushion time done, and all waste-able time has been wasted. Now it’s all about productivity and putting out product so that my pasty white butt can keep its place in the cushy office chair to which it has become accustomed.

What I lack in self-motivation I make up for in panic productivity. So there’s that.

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Y’all enjoy your day, mmkay? Think of me as you go about your business in a calm and dignified manner. If I don’t get my cranium sliced open by a razor-sharp piece of autoclave, I’ll be spending the rest of today actually working for a living.

Yep - Hell should be freezing over any time now.