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Work = hell.

Walked to work fast and feeling late. Picked up my lost flashyheart from the sidewalk on the way. I'd noticed it missing last night at work when time to go home; I found it on the sidewalk outside DeVry all wet and dirty.

I was exhausted, and hadn't had time for breakfast, and was looking forward to monitoring. Instead, I went on the phones -- fortunately for me, on my preferred side of $ISSUE. I took the issue up with my supervisor, and she went and checked with someone, and evidently I'm on that side, and that's what I should tell the monitor shift lead.

I was zonked on the phones, and there were weirdlings. I was falling asleep around 2-3. By 2:30 I was contemplating going home, and reminding myself that if I dug out my wrists with my pen, Darkside would never forgive me.

We went home at 4:00. My neck hurt, my back hurt, my eyes hurt.

I called Darkside shortly thereafter, collapsed on my bed. Hooray best friends.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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