21 September 2002


Hallo. Still batshit busy.

I am procrastinating on the speech. I like writing, but I'm finding a massive mental block has sprung up thanks to the subject matter concerning business (I'm not good at "professional" apart from web content and short ad blurbs) and the small, itsy, weensy detail THAT I'M GOING TO HAVE TO SAY IT OUT LOUD IN FRONT OF A LARGE GROUP OF PEOPLE. Did I mention I hate my voice? And as last years conference was video taped, I don't relish the idea of hearing my voice on tape either. On the plus side, this was good for a laugh or two (right after I seriously considered it for about 30 seconds. But I don't think I'd be able to keep a straight face while saying When you reach the end of the year, it's my experience that three things happen: You speed up, Then you tally up, and then, all things being fair, you find some time to rest up... ick.)

And in other news, a good friend of mine (and a girl friend of his) were in a major motorcycle accident last Sunday outside of Rome. My friend ended up with a busted shoulder, broken vein in his neck and basically opened up his right leg from groin to ankle and came damn close to dying from the blood loss. The girl was luckier and only broke her femur. My friend is doing better, but the doctors are keeping a close eye on his leg, as there's still a risk of it becoming infected and gangrenous, resulting in him losing his leg. We haven't had a chance to see go and see him in the hospital yet, but we're going tomorrow. The stupid driver of the car that ran into them said "Oh, I didn't see you." And had his insurance company call the hospital to make sure my friend had survived the night. Fuckwad couldn't even have the human decency to call in person and see if the victim(s) of his crappy driving survived. And I thought *I* had a small conscience. Next to him, I feel like Mother Fucking Theresa.

Anywho, back to speech writing, company researching, web site coding, ripping my hair out, and realising that there's not a 'professional' item in my wardrobe, nor a decent cocktail dress.

The "sexual favours that I won't follow through on in exchange for VBA and Word Macro advice for form templates" offer is still open. I'm desperate. *bats eyelashes so fast and furiously they fall off*

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