I've hit the wall. Stick a fork in me, I'm done. It's after four and I'm ready to hit the bricks. Sigh. This has to have been the longest god awful day ever. Overslept this morning. Rushed around to get to work on time. Had an overflowing inbox and voice mailbox. Was reaching for the Advil by 8:45 a.m. and ready to get the hell out of here by 9. This job grates at my last shred of sanity on a daily basis. Job #2 isn't any better. Last night I totally lost my temper and almost went off on the little bald headed bastard. Why? He sent out Lyzz to help our O's writer cover the game. Bastard. I have been begging for the last six months to go cover something, anything and keep getting told o.k., o.k. we'll get you out there. Have I been to one event since basketball season? No. I want to cover sports. Plain and simple. I kept going back to something one of my former editors said to me. He advised me if I wanted to cover sports I should do what I needed to in order to make that happen. Today I've been trying to formulate a plan of action so I can. There's always our competitor. The idea is gaining momentum in the back of my brain. I think I may call my friend Mindy to get her opinion on what my course of action should be. I trust her to give me sound advice.

Being hormonal isn't helping matters either. Damn PMS. It took me all the control in the world not to start crying at work last night. The last thing I needed was to try to explain to a pod full of guys why I suddenly was a blubbering idiot. Of course, the PMS is my main excuse for my recent lack of control foodwise. I get the worst case of the munchies. Sigh. I'm trying my best to keep it under control today. At least I have hockey to look forward to. That will work off a good bit of the calories I ate today.

Room mate Marti is gone for the week...Woo-Hoo! She took off for a Florida trip with her family last night. The apartment is all mine for the next 6 days. Ahhhh. Granted she did manage to leave without emptying the dishwasher (on her side of the chore chart this month). So guess what I'm doing when I get home? Blah, blah, blah. Another day another chance to get screwed over.

Don't I wish.