OK, so I can't help it. I don't want to work. I'm all done. I keep hiding in this little room behind the front desk between covering the receptionists for breaks, and checking and rechecking my email, and checking and rechecking LJ, and trying not to call Cory because he has to work. I don't feel like going upstairs and putting postage on press kits. I don't feel like doing anything but sitting here and making packing lists and reading things and writing silly posts. I wish I'd taken all week off. But then I'd be sitting at home, checking and rechecking email.