It’s my party, I’ll o.d. if I want to

I’m buried, drowning, whatever you want to call it, in work around here. granted, it’s web work, but it’s still work. at least when I did manual labor or printing or house painting or construction or music or sold candles door to door, there was a time at the end of the day where work stopped and real life began (okay, maybe not with music, but I threw that in there anyway to brag…i made a living playing in a band, and not many people can say that, so I like to point it out once in a while to show how awesome I am. ha ha ha…). but now, with this internet thingy, the day never ends, time never stops and the clock is always ticking. as usual, the thing that was supposed to free us has enslaved us. or me at least.