So God, where the hell have I been? I'm totally lame, what with posting all those pictures but not actually writing anything anymore. The God's honest truth? I've been pretty dull lately. I haven't freaked out on anyone and nobody's freaked me out (wait, not true. Tonight at the gym there was a really strange woman in the locker room who was totally freaking me out. She had that "I'm crazy" vibe going and I know enough to not mess with the crazy. She was wandering around the locker room, alternating between a deep and phlemy cough, and maniacal giggles. Normally I would sidle quietly away and hope to not attract any crazy in my direction but I was half naked, so there was really nothing I could do but hope for the best. After looking in the toilet stall and asking where the shampoo was (in. the. shower. area?) she left, still coughing and giggling. What a freak nugget.

Way to segue, Adrien.)

So, anyway, yeah. I've been busy. If I recently wrote you an email and then you replied and I haven't replied to your replied (hi Palinode!) I apologize. I'm getting to it.

See, there's that job of mine. Goddamn, my job. One of the woman I work with just quit, so large chunks of her job very suddenly became my job. Very suddenly. Take for instance, the web copy project that got dropped into my lap on Friday with almost no direction or explanation. The client who belongs to the web copy called me today and the conversation went something like this:

Client: Where's my web copy? The deadline's today!
Me: web? copy?
Client: The deadline's TODAY. Ex-coworker didn't tell you?
Me: dead? line?

Not really the high point of my day. Added to this are the 800 phone lines I help answer. We take on the identity of our clients, so each line has to be answered with a different company name. That's fun. If by fun I mean palm-sweatingly stressful. And then? There's the 800 line. Oh, damn. The 800 line is attached to a phone number that's advertised in all kinds of places, by a certain east coast state. We have to answer it and field calls from COMPLETE IDIOTS, state-wide. I'm basically the state's receptionist. Today I got a call that went like this:

Me: Office for the Entire United States, how can I help you?
Idiot: Yeah, can I talk to Craig?
Me: Do you have a last name?
Idiot: No, just Craig.
Me: I'm sorry, without a last name I can't find the extension. Do you know what department he works in?
Idiot: No, I just need to talk to Craig!
Me: Die, fool.

Dude, I know. But, in general, I like my job and that's good because I have no choice. The end.

PS. I'm the queen of PS.

PS For Real. So Happy Thanksgiving Even Though It Is a Bogus Holiday And Damn, If I Were A Native American I'd Be So Pissed Off About It But Hey, Any Excuse To Eat Pie And That Canned Cranberry Sauce Which Rules And You're A Snob If You Prefer The Stringy Homemade Kind That Made Me Gag When I Was A Kid And My Step-Aunt Tried To Force Me To Eat It. (Thanks, C.)

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