I hate to tell you this, baby.

But I'm going to neglect you for the next couple of days. Not because I don't love you. You know that I do. But because I am, literally, buried at work. So much so that I'm going to have to work at home for the next night or two. You know I'd much rather be spending time with you in the blogosphere, but I just can't right now. I mean, I could phone it in. But you don't want that. Do you?

This isn't the way it's always going to be, baby. I promise. It's just that I'm doing my work work, and my prepare-for-the-big-interview work, and it's a lot to handle. I'm just trying to make it happen, baby. So we can get that big house in the country you always said you wanted. You know, the one with the porch swing where you and me and all of the other Internets could watch the sunset together.
You understand, right?