Naw, My Aunt's a Waxer

Given the right diet of Coca-Cola and Jubliee chicken sandwiches, I can cultivate quite the facial thicket over a typical two-week deadline period. And when I say thicket, I mean a nappy, scraggly, itchy mess. It's the worst hipster beard you've ever seen. That Sweetpea hates it, and I really only like it in theory.

So, this morning, with a, er, dentist appointment highlighted blue on the iCal, I shaved it all off. My sink looks like your aunt's crotch, and I barely recognize my face (handsome, it turns out), but taking blade to beard was the right call. The, uh, dentist appointment went well — real well — and with any luck, I'll be back in that chair in a week or so.

*****

What else? Well, I finally finished the new Guth-a-Go-Go. None too soon, either, as tons of peeps in the coming months are going to be looking up the brain behind the Pilcrow Lit Fest, her en-progrès second novel, and, by my count, five more super secret projects she's promised to reveal in due time.

A 75-hour work week is lunacy. I know this. But, still, like a dumbass, I logged one last week.

Using temps, part-timers, and a batch of my homemade trucker speed, I put together our February issues — 384 pages, give or take — in five days. Except for Friday, there wasn't a single instance all week when I left for work and returned home the same day. I ate lunch at my desk, dinner at my desk, and watched the 5:00, 6:00 and 10:35 Simpsons every day. (Or at least parts of them; they were some real horseshit episodes that usually got clicked off quickly. Sideshow Bob in Italy. Lisa tap dancing. Mr. Burns trapped in a cave with that hothead Texan... Oy.)

Needless to say, I'm wiped. I spent the weekend sleeping and avoiding computer screens, and I'm feeling a little better, but the ol' brain is still a little soggy.

*****

Possibly related: I can't park anymore. At all. I was never a stellar parallel parker, but I could usually swing my rig into place without much trouble. Not anymore. I've completely lost it. I haven't parked once in the last two weeks without having to take several stabs at the job and getting super pissed and frustrated in the process. Dunno what the deal is or how to get my mojo back, but it's fucking emasculating.