Back to work after Thursday and Friday off and attending 3 days of yarn festival goodness. My level of DO NOT WANT TO WORK is so high. Not helping is that I am the only one in my little area of the office.
Boo not feeling well and rats.
Mr. S’s behavior at bedtime sounds like sundowning.
I am also not that interested in working after a week away.
I am also not interested in working for no particular reason
Ate and could easily fall asleep at my desk. Still not wanting to work.
Look forward to my inevitable burst of energy around 8 tonight. Stupid body.
So today I learned I have Norwegian rats in the crawlspace: they tunnel under the foundations!
Big fucking yikes to all of that.
I flew back to California last night. The taxi should have taken maybe 25 minutes but I think it took twice that amount of time, and I spent the entire ride hoping that I would get home without being in a car accident. I made it home late but unharmed aside from the stress of being a passenger in a car with someone who maybe shouldn't have a driver's license.
I'm at the office because I got notice that they're testing the new fire alarm system in my building today, and I already was at a "if I didn't have noise-cancelling headphones, I would stab you for the sounds you keep making" level of irritation on my flight last night with the dudes seated in my row. Very much would like maintenance to finish up testing so I can unpack my suitcase, do laundry, and get some groceries.
Today is being a Monday. Working on catching up on things after a weekend visiting K's family in Tucson. I teach my class at UCI in 30 minutes. Thankfully that's a fully remote class now so I don't have to commute to the other side of the city to do it.
The group chat with my college roommates informed me today that we graduated sometime in the second week of May (no one remembers the exact date) THIRTY YEARS AGO. We are all appalled.
Steph, I feel like the group chat should have waited until happy hour to spring that news upon you.
Right? I replied "I feel personally attacked," and one of my roommates said, "This feels like age discrimination."
There’s a guy here at the bar with a man-bun, a pencil mustache, several gold chains, and an ascot. I don’t know what to make of it.
The biggest weirdo in your bar had better watch his back. When you come at the king…