*thud*

[gothwalk]

It is Thursday evening at 17:57, and I am still in work. In the last four working days, I have done an amount of work which I estimate would, under normal circumstances, take me three weeks. I have cut corners. I have taken shortcuts. I have not taken breaks. I have concentrated to a degree I would previously have thought impossible, and my concentration is usually pretty damn good. And I have done this for eight and a half hours, four days in a row, and right now, all I want is to lie down and sleep, and I know that my brain is not going to let me, because all the non-work stuff is queued up in there, waiting to get out, and besides, I can't leave here until I get the word from the boss, who's in Spain, that the site will do for the night. The gods appear to have no notion when that'll happen.

Why in blazes I don't hate my job, I cannot think.