It’s one of those days where work has me at my wit’s end. Everything is happening in slow motion. Madonna’s lyrics never seemed more relevant. I’m hung up on yesterday. I’m hung up on this day. I’m hung up on what happens after this day. I’m hung up on people who don’t care, and people who do. I’m obsessing about things that occur to my mind in the little gaps of time that occur between the long seconds the hands on the clock have been indulging in all afternoon long. No new mail. No new email. Nothing tastes good. Nothing makes me feel any different. It’s the damn middle of the week. And I have lost all my passion. It must have fallen into the toilet at some point along the way. Flushed to some horrible sewer of darkness where it smells like angst constantly. Thank goodness for online clothes shopping and rejuvenating laughs. What a ninny of a post. And the loveliness of being an intern (hence temporary) is being ground into my flabby skull yet again. As next season’s intern interviews started today. Son of a crap.