I didn't stand in the shower this morning thinking of clever things to say to you, which puts me a little behind the eight-ball now that I'm sitting here.
Pardon me, eight-ball? What even is this? A snooker blog?
Yes, this is clearly a snooker blog. See all the snooker-related clip art around the place? Dummy. Also: fine, I won't use snooker references. Or billiards. Or even pool.
Good. Carry on.
Where were we, before we were so rudely
Oh my lord, this woman is losing it.
No we weren't in the shower, I was writing about not thinking about writing in the shower.
[Insert "Also, I lost it years ago" joke here]
Shut UP. I'm trying to get this written in the fifteen minutes my brain is engaged in non-spreadsheet activities, and also before Seth is done cleaning the bathroom so he doesn't think I've been wasting time not working.
This is work. Believe me.
Not that we're into that sort of thing - that who's-working-when-and-how-much-and-don't-you-dare-stop-for-a-minute-you-horrible-horrible-slacker business.
Great. Now there's no way to distinguish between what you say and what I say. Italics are my thing.
Are they? Are they really?
Yes. They are. And for the record, I didn't even want to do this.
--
Fin.
