Heat Miser' is a wuss.
STOP THE PRESSES. Turn on the music and jig like Armageddon is upon us! The cedar in my front yard is turning RED! I hereby declare this the final chapter in what was certainly the best summer on record. I look forward to a lengthy, breezy, glorious autumn. Come now, fairest of seasons, and flaunt the brilliant shroud of slow decay before the waning, oppressive avarice of summer!
In other, somewhat less majestic news, several of us visited Buzzy last weekend, and it was great. Friday night, however, we visited a bar/club, and it was a miserable time. Even someone without my considerable ego would've had no problem noticing that we were surrounded by drunken fools who had no business being among polite society so late after they'd gotten home from kindergarten.
The rest of the weekend was smashing. It included a screening of Alien, an hour or two of Rock Band, a visit to the Shedd Aquarium, and a melted wheel of cheese with a thin bread-like crust. Thanks again, Buzzy, for having us over.
My weekly allotment of paid hours at the station has been increased to 35 (including the 6 I work on Saturday nights). Next week, however, I'll be getting considerably more than that. Our news director (approximately 1/3 of our news department) will be taking a week-long vacation, and the senior reporter will be taking over. I'll be needed around the station all week to help maintain output, especially if something unexpected happens (here's hoping). If things keep on this pace, then by September there won't be a green leaf in sight, I'll be working full-time at the station, and some small out-of-the-way country will come to its senses and elect me Prime Minister.
I mean, seriously. How long can they ignore my resume?
Afterthought: My license plate just arrived. My little blue box now reads "DCTRWHO," and I've met three new nerds in less than a week.
In other, somewhat less majestic news, several of us visited Buzzy last weekend, and it was great. Friday night, however, we visited a bar/club, and it was a miserable time. Even someone without my considerable ego would've had no problem noticing that we were surrounded by drunken fools who had no business being among polite society so late after they'd gotten home from kindergarten.
The rest of the weekend was smashing. It included a screening of Alien, an hour or two of Rock Band, a visit to the Shedd Aquarium, and a melted wheel of cheese with a thin bread-like crust. Thanks again, Buzzy, for having us over.
My weekly allotment of paid hours at the station has been increased to 35 (including the 6 I work on Saturday nights). Next week, however, I'll be getting considerably more than that. Our news director (approximately 1/3 of our news department) will be taking a week-long vacation, and the senior reporter will be taking over. I'll be needed around the station all week to help maintain output, especially if something unexpected happens (here's hoping). If things keep on this pace, then by September there won't be a green leaf in sight, I'll be working full-time at the station, and some small out-of-the-way country will come to its senses and elect me Prime Minister.
I mean, seriously. How long can they ignore my resume?
Afterthought: My license plate just arrived. My little blue box now reads "DCTRWHO," and I've met three new nerds in less than a week.