This Is The Face Of A Man Who Has Worked 27 Of The Last 35 Hours

This laptop has saved my life. I am working on the ass-end of postproduction for a certain somebody's certain somethingorother television show. This particular phase in the process, the conform, requires my full and undivided attention for about 13 minutes out of every hour, the other 47 minutes being downtime.

This is where my laptop comes in.

I have played more World of Warcraft in the last few days than I have slept. Which is unfortunate, because I'm fucking exhausted.

And it's not as though I haven't slept because I've been such a huge fan of WoW, but because every three minutes I'm desperately needed for thirty seconds. So it is impossible for me to sleep, but impossible for me to actually do very much.

Thank god for my laptop. I wouldn't have survived this without it.

My head is melting, exploding, and frozen all at the same time. Not my head, really, but my mind.

Do you understand what I'm saying to you? I have drunk a large glass tumbler full of premeire quality Starbucks coffee, sweetened with a packet of Swiss Miss Cocoa and lightened by a smooth small stream of whole milk, the very first draw from a previously unopened container of whole milk. I took the milk from a refrigerator full of sugar water, sparkling water, still water, orange juice, etc. etc. etc. Almond Joy bars mingle with Kit Kats and Reece's peanut butter cups in a big fishbowl. I love this office, but all I want to do is go home.

The end of my night is nowhere in sight.

I will tell you, whisper in your ear, about what happens to my brain in the epilogue, but it has yet to be written.

I long to be the cabana boy of my lovely wife Karen. We will be tropically romantic when my ottoman is stuffed full of hundred dollar bills.