It's 11:45 pm. I have to be up at 5am and at work at 7am for a client call. I guess I could take it from home, but I hate doing that. I haven't stopped and figured out why. Anyway. I should be in bed. Sunday evening is always really long. You stay up way later than you should and try to get as much done as possible.
I'm still not at the point where I hate work or anything, but the allure of working in downtown Chicago on Michigan ave doing stuff I love is starting to wear off... somehow.... man... what a weird statement. Clearly something is wrong with me.