I have spent all morning handling the kind of horrible tiny details that are at once both seemingly insignificant, hugely time-consuming, and vital to the continued wellbeing of my ducklings. Also I had to go to the Administrative Professionals' Day breakfast, which was nice enough, but I'm glad I didn't have to stay for STRENGTHFINDER! training. I have found my strengths. I don't think they want to hear about my amazing ability to write porn about people from the TV.
But because of all that, and because of the luncheon I'm catering (well, I say I'm catering it, truth is a local Mexican place is catering it, I'm just the Mexican Liaison) and because of the research work I got assigned this morning, I have not had a chance to even look at the last Dead Isle chapter or post the new one. I will do that this evening.
While I was writing that last sentence, three people came to talk to me about papercut issues. Not actual papercuts, metaphorical papercuts, but you get my meaning. I am metaphorically kick-flipping all the hell over the office solving crimes and taking names. (And office supply orders. And food orders for next week's lunch.)