I'm painting my nails with gold glitter nail polish. Not that it matters right now because my hands are still gnarled and ravaged by eczema, which I just figured out is really difficult to spell. I need to go to the doctor, but for some reason I find going to the doctor the most inconvenient thing in the world, so I've just been living like this for months, my skin all fucked up. I need to go the optometrist too. My dad doesn't understand why I have trouble scheduling and keeping doctors appointments because he is the most organized and methodical person I have ever met. He doesn't have the trouble I do executing typical daily tasks.
I like having my desk lamp on, but it makes my room really hot.
I'm writing this to avoid my working-writing. Can you tell? I've been reading good things. I'm reading Affliction by Russell Banks. Slowly. I'm reading this book of Vogue food features too. I love food writing.
At my job, there are Areas of Responsibility that are divided between Sales and Execution. Sales is assisting customers and Execution is maintaining the floor set and things like that. At work, I'm probably better at Execution than Sales. But in the rest of my life, that's not true.
Shit needs done. I'm not a good executor.