Fuzz Productions

Up Late. Hostage to the Storm.

I’m awake. I don’t have a very strong reason… but there is this one: I’m inside the office. It’s raining outside.

Yes, my friends bailed on our weekend trip to hike 40+ miles on the Appalachian trail, all because of this rain that has coincidentally trapped me in the office. “No woodsy enjoyment for you!” says the rain hard pressed to the roof.

It’s slithering down the tall window behind me. I can just feel it perversely peering in on my stranded body in this office.

I’m afraid to go outside. These tropical conditions would kill a designer like me. My frail bones and deteriorated muscle could not withstand the wind and water damage. I don’t even want to think about that. Am I paranoid? Yeah; the second I step out I just know the wind would roll a critical strike and staple me to a car.

I’m not going to sleep instead. No, I’ve decided to live out my nights existence in noble pursuit. Here, inside, I’m designing things big and small and damned pretty. No ugly things, no fugly things, no chubby things. I can’t stand those things.

Fit things. Purposeful things of internet glory.

Oh, how I would enjoy to forever bask in the light of the upcoming blog design. It’s been decided: it’s the RGB of heaven set in full screen and born by my mortal fingers (guided by immortal companies like Apple, Adobe, etc.).

On that note - I had better abruptly end this. If I don’t soon, I’ll be face down on a hardwood desk, flanked on all sides by empty cans of Coke and RedBull (libations to Apple, Adobe, etc.). Who knows what they’d think I was doing. Instead, I’ll be securing a restful position on the florescent orange couch.

Steve did not stray from his rolly-thrown and drool laden desk until the next morning - when the wind took him from sweet slumber.