Testosterone

So I got this powerful burst of can-do on the weekend, fortunately paired with a monumental urge to earn a shitload of money. This possibly has a lot to do with my brother's suggestion that I buy property (shortly followed by brief depression after looking at housing prices and the number of decades it will take me to pay off a mortgage of respective magnitude). Still, you can't blame my overdriven moneymaking urge for wanting to fart in the wind sometimes.

I'm also feeling incredibly cheeky today. Not sure what it is.

If I don't look too closely, it's been a pretty good week despite things falling apart behind the scenes. I might take this moment to commemorate the tasks that have fallen by the wayside in the past month, namely: accounts filing, domestic Christmas card posting, novel-writing, website updates, budgeting, general ordering of my immediate environment and, my favourite, ironing.

On the up side, I went to a tech breakfast on Thursday and actually networked with potentially valuable people; went to a client editorial meeting on Friday officially taking editorship of The Project Manager (the institute publication with probably the smallest circulation in Australia but who cares, it's MINE), plus managed to squeeze a word in with Rob (if you recall, the librarian of my dreams - and have been conducting innocuous semi-work-related email conversations with him since).

Then I went drinking with Sir, Beq and Lena (Sir and Beq's school friend), playing pool and flirting with 17-year-olds (this guy tapped me on the shoulder and tried to convince me to be his date for the night, then winked at me - Beq reckoned he was 17 cos she saw him come up the stairs and do a fist pump as if he had gotten away with convincing the bouncer he was of age) before dancing at Minskys piano bar. Sir had to drag me home cos she was tired.

Weekend was filled with chocolate. Literally. Went to two chocolate cafes as part of my reviewing duties in Chatswood, took lots of notes and pictures and am on my way to buying a new, more efficient washing machine - yay!

Today I spoke to Charlton TMBPMITC (if you recall, the most beautiful project manager in the cosmos) as I am profiling the Antarctic Airlink for the next issue of the mag. Still as lovely as ever, even over the phone. And then started panicking about not being a good editor cos even with lots of ideas I can't fill the mag and get writers to contribtue over the holiday period. Argh!

Still, it'll iron itself out, right? Oh no, ironing...