That's what you'll hear me say before every coffee break at work. As if announcing to my entire department that I will remain catatonic in my own world and no one can ever bother me for 15 minutes even if you parade to my cube accompanied by trumpets and sirens in your birthday suit. Like right now. I'm having my coffee break, which, to be politically correct about it now, is a "non-coffee break" considering my health-related cause to stay away from caffeine as much as I can, even the decaf kind. That stinks big time but I'm surviving at this time with a cup of iced orange juice, and writing about everything else that is not the 3 paid articles I'm supposed to shoot out in 11 hours 23 minutes and 6 seconds. I hate deadlines. Especially if I know I have less time to spare toward meeting that deadline with my projects. For the record, I don't do my side job whilst on my main job (work ethics baby!). And so, I have to do with the small windows called breaks. How do you cramp 3 articles in two 15-minute non-coffee breaks and one 30-minute lunch time? Especially if one is sidetracked with ranting about that exactly in a blog post that doesn't make sense at all, and while eating spaghetti (with a plastic spoon because I'm too lazy to go to the lunch room and grab a fork) on the side?

PS. Oh, if you're thinking that there is a segue coming for the above photo... I'm sorry. It's just there for no reason.

I put it there just because. You see, even wifeys have crushies too.