Thursday, September 20, 2001

I JUST WANT TO SIT DOWN AND COLOR. Give me a good coloring book and the 48 box of Crayola Crayons (not the 64 -- that sharpener would be far too tempting) and I'll gladly take a stress-related week off work.

I'm numb and paralyzed and jittery, if that combination makes any sense at all. Delayed stress reaction from Sept. 11? Maybe, but the current level of stress is quite formidable in itself. The fight I face at deadline every night makes me think of David Carradine fighting armies of rednecks in "Kung Fu." Not that we're coming close to making deadline. Even without the sense of dread that any sensible resident of the earth must be feeling now, this is much too much.

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