Okay, everything is officially happening too fast. Maybe it's because I dropped off the planet for a week and a half. I don't know. Suddenly it's time for holidays and birthdays and anniversaries, one right after another until about 2004 or so. And suddenly that very important wedding is a little over a month and a half away.

Scary, isn't it? And that's not even mentioning work. Which I will do now, in the form of a silent scream.

Eek.

Well, almost silent, anyway. The Boss has already started obsessing about year-end accounting. He wants reports and spreadsheets that I can't even start working on until after the year officially ends, and I can't do anything about that date. Apparently December 31 is pretty much set in stone.

Old rant: Maybe if I had a commercial accounting and job costing software program I could do what he wants. But I don't, so I can't. And the reason I don't is that he doesn't trust them. He trusts me to do it right, and now he wants me to do it fast, too. Is there no end to the pressure?

I mentioned yesterday that autumn had tightened its grip while I was gone. That's just a minor quibble with the ways of the universe compared to the naked reality that hit me today. I have so much to do, and so little time. And yet I still insist on watching General Hospital every afternoon. What in the world is wrong with me?

This petty panic attack is brought to you by the letter Z. As in, I still haven't caught up on sleep, and it's creeping into the corners of my life. While I was on the planet Vacation, it seemed that I'd dropped out of real life and into a warmer, softer, friendlier world. Then I got dropped back into this one and it's been a bit of a shock, like a rock hitting the windshield. So far I'm not cracking, though.