. . . or very nearly. The past few work weeks were a mere warm-up for last weekend, which blew pretty consistently throughout. My colleagues had told me I’d be “on call” all weekend if any problems arose during the site launch. I ended up working from home Saturday and Sunday and having to go in to the office yesterday (a paid holiday for most). My only reprieves were a wonderful dinner when I got home late Friday — D. earned major bonus points for that — and dinner at Teresa’s on Saturday, complete with chocolate fondue. Otherwise, our anniversary, Valentine’s Day, and President’s Day were devoid of both rest and relaxation. I even missed dim sum with a bunch of friends, and I loves me a dim sum hen party.
Oh, and our furnace started acting up Sunday. The details are boring; suffice to say that we froze one night and sweltered the next. I feel all dessicated now. Maybe I’ll get strep and can loll about home, using up sick days.
But all is not entirely mopeworthy. I sold a Fuck disc on Amazon today. Go commerce! D.’s band is playing the Middle East Upstairs in March. (On a Monday, but still, it’s a major, Tigger-like sproing up.) And I should be getting my tax refund soon.
OK, going home.
np (in my head, ever since I woke up this morning): “Kissing the Lipless” by the Shins — thanks to Fortissimo’s 2003 best-of comp, which I played like three times Sunday.
This entry brought to you by: Pistachio Power!
First: Whoa, that’s some intimidating disclaimer: “Inappropriate comments may be removed and may also result in the loss of your account”? I’d better be damned careful what I say! Oops - did I say “damned”?
Anyway: your workplace generally gives its employees paid time off on “Presidents Day”?!? Wow - nice perk that. Everyone around here forgets it’s Prez Day until they’re two seconds from calling the post office to yell about where’s the mail and then they remember: oh.
I hope I still have an account when I’m done.
Yeah, you wouldn’t want to be a no-account!