duck-shaped pain

So I did. He answers, and the first thing he asks me is why I called.

Um.

I told him that I could work next week. Then he asked me if I could work this week, which might have been possible had he called me on Monday or so instead of Thursday.

I thought long and hard yesterday afternoon about whether I should work next week or not. I finally decided to because a week really isn't that long, and it's not like I was going to do anything better next week, anyway. One of my biggest problems is that I am a poor manager of my own time -- I always get these really grandiose schemes regarding what I'm going to do with my free time, and then I never follow through. I think, I'm going to do this and read this and whatnot, and then I never do any of those things and usually end up watching a lot of TV instead. If I could trust myself to do something useful next week and not fritter it away, I wouldn't go back. But I know better, so off I go. Maybe it will be a truly bad week -- something that will make me decide once and for all to just quit and shut up.

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