Motivational Ruffles, and All That's In Between

'Evening, Blogees.

I came into the office today to work on the identity guide for my cousin's business (I'm on my laptop, as my work station still has no Internet). Since I last mentioned said business, the logo has been redesigned by the website guy, aka, the bane of my existence. He's not really the bane of my existence; he's just a guy who went to college and assumes that this means he knows more about everything than us sad, uneducated people, who got our experience by designing magazine ads. At my cousin's request, I emailed him with what I have done so far for the identity guide (which he insists is absolutely vital), and asked if there was anything I needed to add before converting my svgs into one pdf. He responded with a fairly rude email, saying I had disregarded his instructions, and that a whole bunch of things I had included didn't need to be in there (these are things that every other visual identity guide in the world seems to have), and not to finalize anything until everyone had had a chance to look at it. I replied (and copied the reply to my cousin) as politely as I could, and asked a bunch of questions - basically, if I'm not supposed to do X, then what should I be doing instead? My cousin just wrote me back and told me she would let me get pointers from him. UGH. Whatever. I'm not dealing with it until tomorrow.

My mum and I walked to the store, got a bag of chips (I usually don't eat chips. God knows what we were thinking), and came back to the office to eat them. On the back of the bag, there was a story that started with:

At the age of 10, I lived with my family in the Fisher Housing Projects in Detroit, Michigan. By today's standards, we were considered poor.

It goes on for four paragraphs about this random kid stealing peaches from someone's backyard, then another two paragraphs about how he learned his lesson, and why self-control is great, and things to remember to help you demonstrate self control in everyday life. I feel like I'm in the twilight zone or something.

Last night, my mum and I watched the first three episodes of Dollhouse. She's completely addicted, just like I knew she would be.

A few months ago, at my brother's request, I brought V for Vendetta home from the office (I keep my movies at the office, to prevent the exact thing that ended up happening). He didn't watch it that night, but my mum and I and one of my other brothers did. The next night, that brother and the youngest one asked if they could borrow it, and I said yes, if they put it back on my shelf when they were done. Because I'm an idiot, I didn't check to see that they had put it back until last night, when my youngest brother asked if he could watch Once Upon a Time in Mexico. He insists that since both of them watched V, it isn't his fault that it didn't get put back. The other one insists that he watched the movie with my mother and I, after the youngest one watched it, so it's my fault if it didn't get put back. This is especially annoying, because this is the second copy of that movie that I've loaned out, only to have it disappear on me. My first copy is currently residing on my friend's uncle's shelf - unless, of course, he decided to lend it to someone else.

Tonight, I'm going to the casino with my mummy. I have $10 that I can spend, which I'll split into two $5 bills. Hopefully, if I go with my mum, the guard won't feel the need to ask me my middle name and have me spell it, while glaring at me and making it obvious that he thinks my ID is either fake or not my own. I should probably go work out now, since afterward, I have to heat my bathwater, clean up and get changed. Thank God it's not hair-wash day.

I didn't work out yesterday because I didn't feel like it. That's a dangerous habit to get into, especially because that makes it the third day in four weeks that I've missed, and this time, there was no good reason for it. I should work twice as hard, but I probably won't.

I think that's everything. I think. Oh, 5:55, time to make a wish. Alright. That's done with.

I missed one thing. I've started working on the final chapter of Aigaion Girl. As happy as I am to have nearly completed my... fourth book (likely the first one that will ever be published), it's a little bittersweet - and I feel an inordinate amount of pressure to get the ending perfect. I've been looking forward to writing this ending, but now I'm terrified that my readers are going to hate it. Eeek.

Okay, I really do think that's it. And I really do have to go work out. Right.

I.N. Out.