I ♥ my job 85% of the time, but at times like this, when I'm just sitting down to do work on a project which was due in days ago, with no end in sight, with my fiancée lying in our bed on her own, I plain hate it.

The lateness of my copy has very little to do with me; I'm reliant on a project like this on so many other people getting stuff to me in time, and it pisses me right off that other people's lackadaisical attitude is costing me my own time.

I'm feeling more then a little pooped at the moment (archaic English expression meaning 'tired', just to anticipate any furrowed brows on the faces of American readers) and am in dire need of a decently long break. This weekend is going to be another marathon sesh trying to get this bastard project finished, and what with one thing and another, I can't remember the last time I had a weekend clear which I could waste as my fancy took me.

Ah well. Fine words butter no parsnips, as Captain Mainwaring says, and blogging does not a labs write. See you the other side of midnight, peeps.