You haven't done your time sheets? Lashings for you.

I've decided that whoever first invented the notion of time sheets was an evil, evil person. An evil, sad, lonely person.

This is, without doubt, the most tedious task of my day. Or as the days pass by, the task becomes the most tedious of my week. And were it not for the constant reminders from my peers and 'higher ups', I probably wouldn't complete my time sheets. It's not that I'm insubordinate, but rather my attention remains focused on the job at hand.

Yes, okay, I realize that clients need to get billed if I expect to get that little deposit slip every two weeks that says my bank account has been brushed with the magic wand of gold-plated tin. For verily, I use those coins to pay my landlord, and the super-friendly folks at the gas and electric companies who also send me little friendly reminders that they too would like some coins dropped into their collection plates. And yet even more coins dropped into the tin plates of the food markets, and the clothing markets, until alas, the coins are all gone. Until my bank account is brushed once again by the magic wand of gold-plated tin. Then it's just like a never-ending cycle.

But I digress: time sheets remain the vein of my existence. Horrible, nasty, time-consuming things.