Journalists Gone Wild

Jonanna, Zane and I have discovered a quick way to rouse our spirits here in the dog days of Annual Manual. We play the theme song to The Mary Tyler Moore song and dance around. Why is that song so uplifting? Do I have a Mary Tyler Moore complex? Well, sure, divorcee journalist and all that. "We're gonna make it after all!" OK, I'm spinning around now and throwing my hat in the air. Actually, I don't have a hat. Yesterday I tried to throw my hair tie in the air, but I got sort of dizzy from lack of sunlight and fell over.
Hmm. Houseguests this weekend. My friend Heather Marold and Brad (?), who are en fianced and getting married in SF next week. I had very little time to clean and prepare for them, but hopefully there are no piles of dog hair in the guest room.
The traffic sucks today. I made my first foray out of the office during daytime hours and got stuck in all sorts of hell. But it couldn't be avoided. Out of cigarettes and all that.
Yuck! I am so freaking disgusting right now it's unbelievable. I have been living on: coffee, diet coke, American spirits and BackRoad Pizza (delivered all week to our office). I've barely made it to the gym, I accidentally inhaled a moth ball last night (and now will surely die) and, for what it's worth, the air quality in this building stinks right now (literally) due to all the adrenelin pumping through the building.
Are you jealous? Don't you wish you were a journalist now?
OK, am breathing. Sorry this is so non-newsy. This is personal news. I am completely gross and counting the SECONDS to next Thursday when I am going to: sleep in, drink 7 quarts of water, get my toes done and possibly engage in some sort of detoxification process.