Five out of Se7en

There's still a lot of work left to do, but I'm taking the night off. For no other reason than I was getting to the point where the next person to ask if I'd gotten to their job was getting kicked square in the nuts (or equally sensitive area).

A client got a repreive on his ad deadline, which normally would mean a sigh of relief because instead of cutting it close to the wire we are early, right? Not to this guy. To him, this means a whole new round of intensive Photoshop revisions. I had to keep thinking to myself "He pays his bills on time...He pays his bills on time..."

That covers wrath. The huge pizza dinner I had delivered and ate too much of takes care of gluttony. The fact that I feel good about the amount of work I've done in the past three days...pride. I spent five minutes checking out my receding hairline in the mirror...vanity.

I don't have enough money to be greedy. You need a taste of wealth to crave it. I have no energy to lust, but I envy those that do. So, as far as deadly sins go, I'm five out of seven for the day.

That's enough to make me want to go to bed early.