Don't Tell Anyone...

...I have not done one LICK of work yet today. At work. Which is why you shouldn't tell anyone. Look, do I have to spell it out for you? I'm at work, and not doing any work. GET IT? Fuck, you're an asshat.It's snowing quite a bit out there. Up here on the 21st floor, if you look out the window, it looks like the snow is falling up as the wind pushes it against the building. Like being in a snowglobe.Like being in a snowglobe, slogging away at a meaningless job for a multibillion dollar corporation that doesn't offer job security or a holiday bonus. I want a better snowglobe.I'd rapturously describe the way the snow is falling today, but I'm not in the mood. I'm not in a crabby mood, either, those of you who said I'm in a crabby mood. I'm in an auto-pilot mood. Auto-pilot mood consists of being able to carry out basic functions such as walking, breathing, spelling the word "marriages" for people, eating, and updating livejournals. Higher functions, such as the ability to write well, are safely tucked away in the big soft corners of my brain, hiding from the cold germs that are currently rip-roaring through my head in souped-up muscle cars, leaking all sorts of fluids that continuously seep out of unguarded head orifices. If I tilt my head for too long, I start to weep. Which is girly.So I'm amazed at how much work I'm not doing. I know it won't last long, it's just a lull, but jesus, no one has bothered me yet, which is frankly shocking. It's like getting away with something I'm not even trying to get away with. Doo dee doooo.