(no subject)

I'm woeful and still moping a little. There might be coherence later, but for now I'm sitting here poking at my knitting and trying to remind myself that me + sewing machine = just asking for trouble. I'm also balefully glaring at my work e-mails--there's not a lot of them, but half of them require that I deal with them by metaphorical;ly beating some people around until they give me the information I asked for, not the information they think I probably vaguely asked for. People more than ten years my senior (and, er, earning twice my salary) should not be worse at their jobs than I am at mine, dammit.

*pokes the internet* Where is my entertainment?