A Porter-like month

It's a tiring day and i've just briefly reflected upon the events that happened to my insignificant week. My feet are aching and seems i hear knocks at the gate. I'm not drunk nor am i delirious. I see projects swirling about the entire room. Where's my paper? I cant find it, 'twas taken by someone swift enough to escape my sights. What to do now? All i can do is just sit and wait for the knock till the someone comes back with it.

"Ancilla face mea laganum!" - Slavewoman, make me pancakes~!