Timelies all!

We're going to day trip Shore Leave(local media SF con) tomorrow. Sunday will be errands day.

I have a Canadian friend who just flew out for Shore Leave this morning.

HAZZAH, Jesse!!!

Day 3 of the headache. I thought I was in the clear last night and went out with K-Bug. It was ok for a while, but during the drive home it all came back. I'm hungry and feel like I'm going to barf at the same time. Blerg.

There are also people I've worked with who must be visited in person if anything is to happen. This is problematic when the workplace is distributed.

Sometimes a co-worker acts in proxy for me, and goes to loom over LazyGuy until he does what I've asked.

I'm nearly six foot in heels. I find looming to be very effective.

Used to be, my manager would waddle-prance over to my desk to harrass me, and if I couldn't get her off me, I would stand up to reach for something on a top shelf. She's five-two in heels. She would find a reason to leave. I hate to use my power for evil, but sometimes you're left with no options.

I hate when people give me instruction like that, and so I try not to do it.

Oh, well, yeah, it's annoying to people who can, y'know, read and follow instructions! It's only for people who I know won't respond effectively otherwise.

Also, with many people, one topic per email is all they can handle. You can't say, "Please do X, and also remember that Y is due Thursday." You have to send two separate emails, one on each topic.

Yes, that! Good point. You can't meara in a business email.

Zen, I swear I don't want to look condescending, but--fuck them. I am petty.

Oh, believe me, I understand. I am petty and mean, I'm just proud that I've finally learned how to manage my team - including my manager! I've sent a lot of covered in my previous email, please read that! emails. I don't get how people can be that motherfucking thick in the brainpan and still retain their jobs. I don't get how they get through their lives, even.

The aforementioned idiot - one might think I'm being uncharitable, calling her an idiot. Let me provide an example. I got trapped in a conversation with her, my boss, and a high-level volunteer we were trying to impress. She started describing movies she'd recently seen. None of us could leave without seeming rude, so we were stuck there, sending each other desperate glances. She was describing The Terminal, how it was about this guy who ended up living at this airport -- then her eyes got real big and she exclaimed in horror, "Oh, no, what if he's still there?!" I said "Well, Tom Hanks made a movie about him, so I'm sure someone has noticed by now." The volunteer snorted his drink and later asked me to sleep with him. I maintain: She's an idiot.

It's Friday! What are people doing this weekend?

I must clean out my office. I have to. It can't wait any more. I'm starting to hate myself about it. Also, movies.

I HAVE MOVED.

Huzzah!

I'm surprised at the advice the Internet is giving me about swelling after the tooth extraction (these are websites of dentists/oral surgeons, not yuhazdentalproblems.com) -- for the first 24-36 hours, use ice, but then after 36 hours, use heat for swelling.

I thought it was one outlier bad dentist, but then several sites said it (and it wasn't all a copy-and-paste of the same site, either, which you can see sometimes with medical advice).

Does that sound right?

I bravely ventured forth to the grocery store -- bravely because it's 92F out and very sticky. But I came home with ice cream (technically ice coconut milk, OK?) and lemonade bars and other good stuff, so life is better.

Next I'm finishing up my work-from-home for the day....

FWIW, Teppy, I've been advised to use warm/hot salt water, and have had plenty of extractions, so.

I've been rinsing with warm salt water, but using a warm compress on my face was just something that didn't sound right (versus using a bag of ice).

Someone needs to take away my Costco card. I came out of the store today and couldn't fit everything in the trunk because it was still full up with stuff from the last trip. Oops.

What impression did I ever give that I care two shits about metal music? Seriously, have you not been paying attention to my severe lack of related fucks and knowledge? If it's not Alice Cooper, likely I know nothing of it, and rather turn elsewhere for grammar reference.

It's not the metal thing: it's the gay, leather thing. Which, because I'm me, I just assume EVERYONE knows and cares about.

It's why I'm a verb amongst my work friends. Err.