(no subject)
I envy my husband's ability to sleep as soundly as he does. It's one of those truly remarkable things I feel somehow honored to be allowed to witness. I can only hope that our daughter takes after him, at least when it comes to this. Is it too much to ask to have an infant who sleeps through the night? (If her behavior during the last month is any indication, the answer is a most decisive 'yes'.)
I am, clearly, not sleeping. I blame my assistant who's perky enough that she may soon be my ex-assistant. It would seem that Valentine's Day has come early to the offices of MSNBC, all thanks to Missy. Her resume, by the way, stated that her name was Melissa. During her interview, she answered to Melissa. It was only after I hired her that she informed me she went by Missy. If she'd told me that during the interview, she'd still be job hunting. Who the hell goes by Missy? At any rate, Missy brought a different kind of candy in every day last week, and on Friday she sent me home with a ridiculously large box of Russell Stover chocolates.
Never hand a pregnant woman chocolate unless she asks for it. It's not even good chocolate, and yet I managed to eat the whole damn box. (Carol, you have absolutely no idea how much I miss you. You've always understood that if you bring chocolate for the boss, you bring Godiva.) I now have horrific heartburn and the baby seems to be experiencing her first sugar high. To be fair, I also managed to consume an entire Chocolate Three Way at Citronelle tonight, but only after a good fifteen minutes of inappropriate giggling. I'm blaming Sam for that one, though.
They're calling for more snow tomorrow, and I find myself somehow childishly excited about the prospect. It probably has to do something with the fact that I now hold a job that doesn't require me to fight through DC traffic on the weekends. Why the hell didn't I join the private sector years ago? While the title isn't as grand as White House Press Secretary or Campaign Manager, Rafferty for President, this may be the best job I've ever had. I'm seriously reconsidering the decision I'd made to take the summer off to spend with the baby. I can hire someone to help around the apartment, bring Blob into the office with me... I'm actually happy. I'd managed to forget how that feels.
I am, clearly, not sleeping. I blame my assistant who's perky enough that she may soon be my ex-assistant. It would seem that Valentine's Day has come early to the offices of MSNBC, all thanks to Missy. Her resume, by the way, stated that her name was Melissa. During her interview, she answered to Melissa. It was only after I hired her that she informed me she went by Missy. If she'd told me that during the interview, she'd still be job hunting. Who the hell goes by Missy? At any rate, Missy brought a different kind of candy in every day last week, and on Friday she sent me home with a ridiculously large box of Russell Stover chocolates.
Never hand a pregnant woman chocolate unless she asks for it. It's not even good chocolate, and yet I managed to eat the whole damn box. (Carol, you have absolutely no idea how much I miss you. You've always understood that if you bring chocolate for the boss, you bring Godiva.) I now have horrific heartburn and the baby seems to be experiencing her first sugar high. To be fair, I also managed to consume an entire Chocolate Three Way at Citronelle tonight, but only after a good fifteen minutes of inappropriate giggling. I'm blaming Sam for that one, though.
They're calling for more snow tomorrow, and I find myself somehow childishly excited about the prospect. It probably has to do something with the fact that I now hold a job that doesn't require me to fight through DC traffic on the weekends. Why the hell didn't I join the private sector years ago? While the title isn't as grand as White House Press Secretary or Campaign Manager, Rafferty for President, this may be the best job I've ever had. I'm seriously reconsidering the decision I'd made to take the summer off to spend with the baby. I can hire someone to help around the apartment, bring Blob into the office with me... I'm actually happy. I'd managed to forget how that feels.