Strokes of Genius, Thursday
Still yawning after movie-day naptime in Modeling class (again, what the frikkin' hell), Katchoo showed up at work with a triple-strength mocha clutched possessively in both hands. She had to relinquish half her grip on it to open the door, of course, but she'd had to out-attitude the barista at the Perk to get herself a mocha that was 90% espresso, 6% chocolate, and 4% milk and you weren't getting that cup away from her for anything. She'd worked damn hard to get it.
She'd left the window cracked yesterday to get rid of some of the lingering chemical fumes, but there was still enough of a lingering odor to make her grimace and mutter to herself as soon as she stepped inside. The door was going to have to stay propped open again today; good thing she was decently layered.
Anyway, whatever cleanup she hadn't finished yesterday -- funny how talking to Arthur took up a lot of her time, and was actually far more fun -- would be enough physical activity to keep her warm; there were several boxes of trash to take out to the dumpster, half of the drafting section still needed to be restocked, and then the fun of updating inventory lists and prepping the next supply order would have to start.
Katchoo wasn't looking forward to that part, but the radio station she'd tuned into today was playing a marathon of Queen. It'd take the edge off.
[OOC: The OCD fell into a pothole and then got covered up with asphalt. Thanks, CalTrans! I do not want my commute to be an X-Games event every day.]
She'd left the window cracked yesterday to get rid of some of the lingering chemical fumes, but there was still enough of a lingering odor to make her grimace and mutter to herself as soon as she stepped inside. The door was going to have to stay propped open again today; good thing she was decently layered.
Anyway, whatever cleanup she hadn't finished yesterday -- funny how talking to Arthur took up a lot of her time, and was actually far more fun -- would be enough physical activity to keep her warm; there were several boxes of trash to take out to the dumpster, half of the drafting section still needed to be restocked, and then the fun of updating inventory lists and prepping the next supply order would have to start.
Katchoo wasn't looking forward to that part, but the radio station she'd tuned into today was playing a marathon of Queen. It'd take the edge off.
[OOC: The OCD fell into a pothole and then got covered up with asphalt. Thanks, CalTrans! I do not want my commute to be an X-Games event every day.]