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hot diggity
September 25, 2008
The guy in the next cubicle?
The one that makes my workdays an unending, living hell?
That guy?.
They're moving him.
Halle--fuckin'--lujah!
I�ve been trying to conjure up a post for a couple of days, but honestly? I haven�t had enough zip. Last night I just spent most of the evening stretched out on the couch, Mr. B draped over my legs, reading and listening to the rain.
Which is the kind of thing that when I read it, sounds lovely and cozy and peaceful and inviting. So why does it make me feel useless and lazy and evil and guilty?
Gotta love a Protestant upbringing.
I did manage to pull together enough energy to give The B about 20 minutes of wild rumpus. He�s such a good dog that it�s easy to forget he�s still mostly puppy�and puppies need exercise and playtime. We had a vigorous game of tuggysock and some indoor fetch, since it was too wet and muddy for a ballgame. Lots of fun, but he�s a bull moose, and my shoulders are aching today.
Didn't mean I could get away with blowing him off today, though. We just had another tussle, followed by a bit of fetch out in the yard. How could anybody look into those liquid brown eyes and say no?
Obligatory paragraph about the job: It's both tedious and painful. But no one wants to hire a overweight, 45-year-old (as of the 7th)woman. So I'm stuck here until I get the axe, and then I'm thrown to the wolves.
Reading: "At Home in Mitford" by Jan Karon. First book in a series. A pleasant little diversion, but it doesn't really go anywhere. And from what I understand, it doesn't really go anywhere for about 8 or 9 volumes.
Surfing: Local headline-- He was sheriff for eight years, too. Corrupt jackass.
Listening: NPR. But seriously--I've got to stop listening to the news. If I tune in first thing in the morning, I'm depressed all day. If I listen at night, I can't sleep. It's a seriously fucked up world out there.
At Random: click here
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