I'm sorry, Jesse. I'm glad you're getting some efficient laptime with Homer this morning.

Our Comcast box went kerfunkity in the night, so I rebooted it and I'm online. But now our router is confused and won't send a signal to the living room so no Roku or JZ's laptop connection.

(Yes, I tried rebooting the router. Now I am a pouter.)

I'm so sorry, Jesse.

Sorry about Homer Jesse.

Give Homer a scritch for me, Jesse.

Love to you and Homer, Jesse.

Thanks, you guys. I really appreciate all of your good thoughts.

Jesse, my thoughts are with you and Homer today. Apparently my cats are thinking of you too. As I was catching up on Natter and got to your earlier post I realized I had both cats snuggling me - usually it is one or the other at a given time - so I'm taking that as cat solidarity with Homer.

Aw.

But seriously, you people can post about other things!

The holiday slowdown has finally hit here at work. Now, hooray, I get to hear the girls on the other side of the cubicle wall discuss the people they know and their efforts to get pregnant. Joy.

edit: call me a prude, but I don't think discussions of taking basal temperatures every morning is appropriate for work.

I just sent out a strongly worded interoffice e-mail about that most grievous of sins: not refilling the fucking ice bucket after you take the last ice cubes. I'm pretty sure the culprit is actually only one person -- my incompetent!boss the manchild. But it happens every damn day, so I finally got testy and sent out an e-mail. I used words like "courtesy" and "adults," and refrained from using words like "you fuckwit," "manchild," and "I will gut you like a trout if you keep doing this, you entitled fuckwit manchild."

I actually don't assume my e-mail will change anything, but I feel better having vented my spleen.