I realize that lately my blog has been a little lean, and also a bit lame. Since I don't usually talk about work here I've neglected to mention that this is my "busy season," and currently I'm juggling a workload that might be manageable for two and a half fully capable professional artists. But for a lone, self-taught designer with the attention span of a fruit fly, it's proving too much to handle. In the last few weeks I've devolved into a snarling bitch around the office and a zombie at home, so mentally exhausted at night I can scarcely form one complete sentence, let alone string a few together into a cohesive anecdote.
The pressure at work has been building and yesterday I snapped, just briefly, and spent four and a half cathartic minutes under my desk in the fetal position, weeping into the collar of my peacoat. (My desk is awesome for hiding -- the front panel goes all the way down to the floor.) Afterward I felt much better and went back about my business. Things should ease up after today.
On an unrelated note: I was watching "Nature" on PBS last night (as I often do, since I chose a gym membership over Cable TV and there's not a lot to see on the networks these days), and I think this year for Hannukah I'd like a capuchin monkey. They're just so precious. Also they seem intelligent and dexterous, and I could really use some help around the house. I bring this up because live monkeys are apparently unavailable on Amazon.com and thus cannot be added to my wishlist. (An Amazon search for "monkey" turned up, among other things, Donkey Kong Country 3 for Game Boy and Anti-Monkey Butt Powder Anti-Friction Plus Sweat Absorber. Personally I'm a Johnson's baby powder girl, but I find the banana-yellow package design quite appealing.)
Actually I understand monkeys are not so easy to come by: I've got a friend who traveled through India and Asia after college. When I ran into his mother at a holiday party she told a shocking tale in which my friend's neck was slashed by a broken bottle in a Nepalese bar fight. "They missed his artery by this much," she said with her fingers pinched together. A couple years later I repeated this to the slashee and he said, "Jesus, why does she always tell that story? She never mentions that I managed to buy a car and drive all the way to China with a monkey in the passenger seat. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a monkey?" Maybe it's just the way he said it, but every time I think about that conversation I laugh out loud. Indignation by itself is amusing; demanding respect for successful procurement of a primate -- to me, that's comedy.