Sigh. I know what my onerous task is. The work task I've been avoiding all week.
Me too. A relatively simple thing, too. Don't know what my problem is, but I really don'wanna.
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, nail polish, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
Sigh. I know what my onerous task is. The work task I've been avoiding all week.
Me too. A relatively simple thing, too. Don't know what my problem is, but I really don'wanna.
But my mind wants it in the cadence from that dog food commercial. "Hookers and blow, hookers and blow, I'm gonna get me some hookers and blow!"
I'm so glad it wasn't just me.
My onerous task for today: completing the online sexual harassment workshop for work. VERY onerous.
I got my Bonus! Incentive! check from work today. It's quite less than it has been in previous years. Because I haven't worked as well? No, I've worked my ever-expanding tushie off this last year. It's because "they" changed our evaluation structure so that now to get a high rating you have donate a kidney and cure AIDS while never leaving your desk. It's impossible. I do not feel incentivized. Is disincentivization a word? It is now.
Personally, I'm antidisincentivization.
eta: Shoulda' said I'm an antidisincentivizationist.
Or I approve of antidisincentivizationistesque policies.
Onerous task: Taxes!
And then budgeting and office paperwork I keep putting off.
And then housecleaning for the house concert.
That's really a lot of onerousity.
But to make it up to myself, I'm doing my nails while I'm doing the deskwork.
My onerous tasks today include doing my presentation and paper for class this weekend, as well as unpacking, washing, and then displaying the crystal that I inherited from my great-grandma via my aunt (they're still in the boxes my dad brought up three weeks ago).
Hookers and blow, y'all! (That's the new "Timelies!", right?)
We had crazy thunderstorms and a tornado warning here last night. It seemed like it was coming fairly close to us, from what we could tell from the radio (we don't have TV reception and the Internet wasn't cooperating), so we tried to hunker down and prepare. This involved shoving the cats in their crates and huddling near the cubby that holds our washing machine (the innermost, best-protected space in our apartment) and draping a comforter over ourselves. The cats were FRANTIC and kept up a rousing chorus of "We're being tortured!" which meant that we couldn't hear the radio reports, so we had no idea how close the storm was or whether it had passed.
In conclusion: I do not like tornadoes, but fortunately we did not get hit by one.
I'm an antidisincentivizationist.
Wonder if I can fit that on a t-shirt?