This is basically what I look like

After the last two weeks, (I am so whiny, I know) I think this freaky hand guy is what I must look like to the outside world - at least that's what I feel I look like.
I've having a little spat of insomnia because of my paranoia about forgetting to do things at work and I haven't had a real meal since Saturday so I'm feeling a little on edge and run down.
Being a Gemini, I loathe feeling this way.
I'm looking forward to the other editor being back tomorrow, though not so excited about seeing the look on her face when I explain why there is enough work piled up to keep us both busy for two weeks straight; with no meals...no sleep...no bathroom breaks...or showers...or sex. Yikes!
Today was such a weird day, which is usually something I enjoy, but today it was a weird kind of weird day if you know what I mean.
First I spilled coffee on my shirt, it left a stain. Then I opened my email and found out that I got a freelance job for a magazine that I've been dying to write for (yay me!). Then I found out that I had to do an "urgent" interview with a client (urgent like, this interview needs to be done, written up and on my bosses desk in an hour). Then I re-read my email and realized that the magazine freelance job is going to pay me almost triple (per word) what I've made in the past (yay again!). Then I get two more "urgent" projects that are both somehow my number one priority. How is it possible to have two things be my single most important task? Amazingly, I usually about five things are my "number one priority."
Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah, then one of the dudes I work with gives me a compliment about a mistake I caught on a book he was working on - that was exciting for me because it always feels good to get a genuine compliment, especially when you're the new girl.
Then I go to do a telephone interview for a different freelance piece which should have taken me about 20 minutes. It went great, the guy was super nice and made my job easy, however my 20 minute interview turned into an hour and a half. So basically, my afternoon was spent on the phone.
I stayed an hour late getting a little bit of stuff done, then grabbed a couple hours worth of work to take home with me. As I got to my car in the parking lot at 6:07 pm, I see a ticket under my windshield wiper. A ticket for $63.50...because I was 7 minutes late to the parking lot. Nobody was even parked there anymore, why did it even matter? Because some other prick was having a bad day I guess.
Whatever - I jumped in my car, swore at shitty drivers all the way home, screeched into my parking spot, ran into the house, tore my pants off, poured myself a drink, popped 2 Tylenol, and called my best friend in the Bahamas to bitch.
So now, I've finished my extra work, I'm tired, my face probably looks like the hand above, (by the way - thanks for posing for the camera PJ) so I'm going to bed.
Good night.