Why do I never learn that doing anything other than the dreaded disser***ion is only going to cause off-the-scale levels of stress? I can see it coming... in about a month's time I'll have my head in a bucket whilst being physically sick at the thought of getting this horrendous piece of work out of the way, plus doing my job and everything else that I do that makes me happy, which is therefore preferable to the Big D.
Par example, we have 5ive (yes, I did it... 5ive) coming into the union tomorrow and I have agreed to work. Not because I can afford the time but because I am a has-beens whore and I live for this shit.
The problem is, that this:
Has now become this:
So we're not actually getting 5ive. We're getting 2wo. 2wo bad boys with no power to rock me. And still, I would rather chaperone them than do my work.
I have a problem, quite clearly. Watch this space for post-gig report!
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