It's been a week of what I call "metawork."

Metawork is defined, by me, as "the work that you have to do in order to get your real work done."

On Monday, this meant watching the movers destroy my desk. On Tuesday and Wednesday, it meant spending every free moment outside of work hauling the non-moved portions of my worldly possessions to the new place in a Mini Cooper - A car which I've determined was never meant to be used in a cargo carrying capacity, unless the cargo happens to be really, really small. A box of tissues, for example, might be acceptable cargo for the Mini. A tiny dog might be all right, too, provided it doesn't leave any doggy oopsies anywhere in the car.

Last night, doing metawork meant standing outside, halfway inside of a dumpster in the damp cold, pounding, hammering, and jumping up and down on bits and pieces of the remainder of the desk that the movers ruined. I was trying to wedge it into the dumpster next to the (more) legitimate trash that was already occupying it, and completing the task took about 45 minutes. For someone who can't even shake your hand without wearing a bunny suit and sterilizing your skin first, this was 45 minutes of unadulterated hell on earth.

Which is cool. It's over, and I can finally go to bed.

But, before I go to bed, I wanted to get a shout out to my homies Ian White (who makes Kori laugh more than I do, damn it) and Corey Haines for indulging the mad whimsy of a sleep-deprived metaworker...