(no subject)
Hurray for Friday, and for being home two hours early! That's right, I got off at 2, because I'm just that awesome, and because the managers said I could. Along with everybody else who came in at 6. Okay, so I'm not that special, but if we'd been allowed to go home when all our work was done, I would've been walking to my car at 10:30. I am just that good. It also surprises me how much manager stuff I actually know. The whole group was humming along pretty well, and we were totally clear of work at 1, when the first wave went home. Of course, I checked about two minutes after they all left and discovered the time rollover showed a bunch of work that HADN"T been done. And the person who was supposed to do it had already left, so I landed that job. Oh, well, at least it kept me busy for that last hour. I probably could be an associate manager without much trouble, and Brian has tried to talk me into using my influence on our boss to get a job like that, but I doubt they can just make up a position for me. Brian can go ahead and think that, he already has a manager's job. At least they let me go early. But I'm beginning to think that I do probably three times as much work as my real manager, who I've discovered this week has no training in pattern work whatsoever, except for what I've taught him. And this morning would've been a lot nicer if I weren't so jumpy about getting up on time, that I woke up at 3 am thinking my alarm clock said 4:45. I had that dream three times this morning, and woke up every twenty minutes between 3 and 4:45 before I finally just got up. I am such an annoying spaz sometimes.
Ugh.
Anyway, I'm home, the laundry is in the machine, and I have Jane tomorrow. My monthly reminder emails to my book club have apparently become quite a hit. My dad thinks I should write for Leno or Conan or someone on late night. My mom thinks I should pursue that fun dream job of being a blogger or freelance writer for Sport Illustrated. Either of those options would work for me, but I don't think they're going to hire me on the four or so lines I wrote to remind everybody about Saturday's meeting. But it would be cool. I so want to be Tom Verducci's fact checker...
Let's see, it's going to be lovely tomorrow. I will not stress out about my doctor's appointment I have next week. I will not. Well, I'll try. But if I think too hard about it, boy, do I become a anxious wreck. *faceplant* No, we're going to ignore that for now, and focus on finding a better picture for the desktop wallpaper. I'm thinking a nice picture of Mr. Rochester. And Sunday when it's rainy, I think I'll try and finish up my scene for the novel (or at least plug a good way through it), and clean out my closet. I bet there's a ton of useless crap in there that can really go away. Dude! I bet I still have my old Wind Ensemble tux in there. I wonder if it still fits? Now, there is the longest shirt I ever owned. Why a tuxedo shirt needs to go down to a girl's knees, I wil never know.
I think I need a cupcake. Yoink.
Ugh.
Anyway, I'm home, the laundry is in the machine, and I have Jane tomorrow. My monthly reminder emails to my book club have apparently become quite a hit. My dad thinks I should write for Leno or Conan or someone on late night. My mom thinks I should pursue that fun dream job of being a blogger or freelance writer for Sport Illustrated. Either of those options would work for me, but I don't think they're going to hire me on the four or so lines I wrote to remind everybody about Saturday's meeting. But it would be cool. I so want to be Tom Verducci's fact checker...
Let's see, it's going to be lovely tomorrow. I will not stress out about my doctor's appointment I have next week. I will not. Well, I'll try. But if I think too hard about it, boy, do I become a anxious wreck. *faceplant* No, we're going to ignore that for now, and focus on finding a better picture for the desktop wallpaper. I'm thinking a nice picture of Mr. Rochester. And Sunday when it's rainy, I think I'll try and finish up my scene for the novel (or at least plug a good way through it), and clean out my closet. I bet there's a ton of useless crap in there that can really go away. Dude! I bet I still have my old Wind Ensemble tux in there. I wonder if it still fits? Now, there is the longest shirt I ever owned. Why a tuxedo shirt needs to go down to a girl's knees, I wil never know.
I think I need a cupcake. Yoink.