Apparently, there's a group of women in the building on a diet. How do I know this? Well, not long ago, a cutesy handmade sign appeared on an office door with "[name]: Portion Control"
Shortly thereafter, one appears on another door with something about "less of me" and some other one I don't recall on another, but it's vaguely shaming. There are cutesy colored paperclips hanging from them, I'm guessing signifying lbs or time.
It fills me with uhg. I mean, whatever, but this is work.
ION, second woman since WW2 earns Silver Star: [link] She's
nineteen.
Today could not be moving any slower.
SHHHH! There should NO issuing that kind of challenge, thank you very much.
I'm at the "inevitable heat death of the universe" stage of boredom.
People, come on! Talk to me. I'm starting to think Spitzer heard us cracking wise and had the feds shut us down. Oh wait, guess he probably can't do that anymore.
Oh, thank god. I get to leave the office now.
Timelies all!
Am tired, not so much because of DST, but because I woke up at random points during the night. Went right back to sleep each time, but still....
Eep! I just made an unofficial pitch on a book to a publisher who contacted me.
It would be very good to get another advance and start another book, as the alternative is more temping (which is less tempting).
Also, I suspect this book would (a) pay more and (b) be easier to write than my Tom Waits book.
Folks, I lost an hour today. I left work all, "it's 4pm! I am leaving early!" And arrived at day care at 5:10.
Apparently my computer has been plotting against me. I manually corrected the time this morning and it must have re-wronginated itself during the afternoon some time. I knew it was an unconscionably long afternoon.
In sum: HATE daylight saving time.
