In sort of good news, bossman now understands and respects the other departments claim on the mutual worksphace we share, although I'm still trying to remind him that we still need a table for ourselves to do our propagation and potting up, so please to not claim it in the name of baby plants.

Greenhouse work together has been good, as it allowed us to talk with our hands busy. He wasn't occupied by emails or text conversations like when we're in the office together, where no talking gets done. So I got to pick his brain and seed tons of thoughts and feel him out on many and varied topics and air my own misgivings that he laid to rest.

Sounds good, Juliebird. Maybe all offices should have a greenhouse. I want one. I don't know what to do with it, but I want one.

Sewer work commences tomorrow by a contractor for the city. But there is a city sewer truck out there now (this is downstream of me.)

Doesn't bode well.

I found a perfectly fitting gored Talbot's teeny polka-dotted skirt at a consignment shop for $12 in immaculate condition. It's business casual for the interview, so I just need to pop out to Old Navy tomorrow and get a fitted cardigan or such for 50% off and I'm set for the interview tomorrow. Thank god.

I've been working in a windowless basement office for two and a half years. Today, I was shown a new office option. Still in the basement, but it has windows. Yes please.

Stranger at Allyson's work knows sense.

Good luck, Strix! Yay skirt!

Yay perfect skirt opportunity, Strix!

Yay window opportunity, Kiba!

Boo sewer opportunity, sarameg. May that go well.

I watched the SOTU address, and watched the official rebuttal. That's it, no more speeches.

I liked that POTUS got a minor jab in during SOTU. Boehner looked constipated as usual.

I've been working in a windowless basement office for two and a half years.

In my career, I've spent a lot of time working in various windowless server rooms, but the very worst was when my department of three got moved into sub-basement level 3 in the bowels of a malfunctioning skyscraper. Our office was a small, low-ceiling, smelly, open-plan room without cell service. If you got lost in the warren of tunnels, you'd know to turn around once you stumbled over the stored Christmas decorations.

In short, windows are nice. I hope you get windows.

Windows are good. I like seeing stuff.

Ha! Actually I meant beef liver (because that's "liver" in my head) but that's clearly not what I wrote. Chicken liver on the other hand, much depends on the preparation. Like sauteed in butter is a bit too forward to me, but I love pate and love it in pasta sauces.

Oh. Totally different. We're back to samesies.