I am way behind on my reading. Why? The awful project I am working on leaves me each day with a headache and no will to read more than a few pages.
I've been on this thing since about December 15th, and it is easily one of the most tedious, depressing, awful jobs I've had. I'm not getting paid enough to do this. I don't know how much I'd have to be paid to make it worthwhile. If I was given the chance to bail out now, I'd gladly do it, lost money and everything. I've got to get out of this business.
I did the photo shoot and was terribly disappointed with the results, because, unfortunately, the pictures looked like me. Oh, I know that's the whole object of the thing, but still, of course there was a part of me that was secretly hoping that somehow the pictures would come out like someone else. You now, someone a lot better looking than me. Oh well. Now I need someone more level-headed than myself to help me pick out the best ones; all I can do is squint at them from behind my hands, cringeing at the magnification of everything wrong with my face. Really, there is nothing scarier than being confronted with hundreds of pictures of yourself. Though the ones where you can see my hands are purple from being cold are moderately entertaining in their own weird way.
Look at me, I am one topic shy of breaking all my own rules. I better finish that book or we'll all be in trouble.