missed rendezvous

Just last week several long lost friends of yore have set up a get together with me, but in one way or another, be it the raging storm or the sudden all-nighter in the publishing house.. those get together I longed for were all cancelled. Partly because I let it, but mostly the conflicting schedules bites.

One talkative officemate says that when she isn't able to talk to someone for eight straight hours in the office she feels.. stale..

"Like a machine?" I supplied.

Yeah, like a machine. Or perhaps in my case, a milking cow. I am expected to produce a pint of ideas every few hours.. milking milking milking me. If cows could talk they'd probably screech.. "stop squeezing my udder! how dare you foul.. you mammary maniacs!"

Sigh. It's just one of them days my brains are fried over medium fire, then baked in the microwave, i feel i have nothing to give as of the moment.

Here is the last drop.

Plop. Plonk. Plop. Plonk.

I need a drink, or a reconnection with my broken circle of friends.