(no subject)
The road to Hell is paved with good intentions; that's what they say, right? Nate doesn't think he's ever quite comprehended the truth of the proverb before now, before he went and started a chain reaction of really stupid decisions. For weeks he's been pondering his current circumstances and the way his personal life has wedged itself solidly between a rock and a hard place. He still hasn't settled on exactly where he first went wrong, but he does know this much: Careful planning means jack shit without enough foresight.
Currently, his life is in a holding pattern-Not of his design but unalterable just the same-and he's glad for the distraction of work, what little there is of it. Elections are coming in May, and it makes sense to ensure everything is in order for the new team of Council members. Of course, there's seldom a time when Council business is anything but, and thanks to Dale, even the old files are in meticulous order. Sometimes, though, there's innovation to be found in the tedium of going over paperwork again.
Nate's seated behind a desk in the Council office, looking over recent paperwork and making notes on a legal pad. Lisey Landon disappeared in recent months, he notes, and apparently no one has yet taken up the chore of hosting the semi-regular mixers for new arrivals. He really should make that happen again, and it should be easy enough. God knows Tabula Rasa loves a good party.
[OOC: Bring your Council business and everything else. Open to new threads through the weekend.]
Currently, his life is in a holding pattern-Not of his design but unalterable just the same-and he's glad for the distraction of work, what little there is of it. Elections are coming in May, and it makes sense to ensure everything is in order for the new team of Council members. Of course, there's seldom a time when Council business is anything but, and thanks to Dale, even the old files are in meticulous order. Sometimes, though, there's innovation to be found in the tedium of going over paperwork again.
Nate's seated behind a desk in the Council office, looking over recent paperwork and making notes on a legal pad. Lisey Landon disappeared in recent months, he notes, and apparently no one has yet taken up the chore of hosting the semi-regular mixers for new arrivals. He really should make that happen again, and it should be easy enough. God knows Tabula Rasa loves a good party.
[OOC: Bring your Council business and everything else. Open to new threads through the weekend.]