I am now invoking my God-given right to use the expression. Oy vey. So be it.

There are times when I hate my job. No, let me rephrase that. I love my job. I hate fucking up in my job, especially since the nature of my job is that when I fuck up, thousands of people see my mistake. Thankfully, it was caught before it went out, but I still beat myself up for making it and I still hate the fact that I look bad for making it. Aside from that, my upset stomach and my Texas-sized headache and my 5 hours' sleep really made my day stellar.

You ever have those times when all you want to do is put on your pajamas, crawl into bed and watch something really really dumb on TV? Yeah, I'm having one of those nights. Pardon me while I shut down for a while.

Addendum: We're going into Day 6 of lack of music. Since my external hard drive (which contains my music collection) died 6 days ago, I've been jonesing for my music. And, as we've already established, me without music results in lack of concentration, lack of patience, irritability and high stress levels. Basically, all the symptoms of addiction withdrawal. Someone bring me the head of Carson Daly.