The Way Things Are



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I have had an assful
2005-08-03, 8:16 p.m.

I have had an assful of this freaking heat so I am NOT going down to my car to retrieve the frikkin rocks and take pictures of them for you lot. Maybe some other day Iíll entertain you (or not) with pictures of rocks. Today is not that day.

It has been up in the 90s? the 100s? for I donít know or care how long. Thatís just the way it is Ďround heyah in these parts this time of year. Itís just fucking godaímighty hot. But today, Iíve had enough of it. I would like to kindly request that we get a break, and that the good Lord visit this insanity upon some other part of the country, because Iíve had enough. Amen. God bless us everyone.

I had a meeting today with two of my lawyers. I saw them walking through the parking lot toward the office, and when I heard them come in the door and the receptionist coming down the hall to get me, I called out ďAre my gentlemen callers here?Ē ďYes, Miss Laura,Ē was the answer. It was an awesome synergy of antiquated dialogue.

I tried a new thing today. Oh, by the way, itís 6:37 pm when Iím writing this Ė not the usual middle of the work day time that I usually do. So I tried something new today to assist with my considerable time-wasting and daydreaming wont. In true DW style, I kept a log. Not THAT kind of log, silly. A log of all my workday activities and the time it took me to do them.

For example, allow me to treat you to these juicy morsels:

9:33 am: sort checks and deposits, get balance, file.
9:52 am: get Whosits contact info to Whatshisname.
9:54 am: prep 2 bank deposits.
10:03 am: bank

And so it goes. The wonderful thing about this is: (1) I kept moving forward and doing my shit, (2) there is only one blank spot where I apparently blacked out and have no memory of what I was doing, and it lasted a little over an hour after lunch (I was reading all yíallís blogs Ė DUH!), (3) there is no 3, (4) I did some tasks that I had been procrastinating upon wildly for the past few weeks, and (5) I can see how all the little shit keeps sticking its cold, wet nose into the side of my ribs, poking me, getting in my face, demanding that I pay attention to it whilst I try to stay on track with the larger projects.

Down, little shit! Down! Bad boy!

It was beautiful, man. Just beautiful. ::sniff::

I had to go out in the heat dad blast it, to the office of one of our former management agents to retrieve 9 boxes of documents (which I like to call box oí dox), and stood out in their parking for a few minutes in the shade cast by their rather shabby building, talking to a very nice lady who I think works for the wrong company and should come work for me. Anyway, as I stood there talking to her, I could feel the sweat running down my sides and down the backs of my legs. Mmmm, butt-overhang sweat. You want me, donít you? Do yíall see why Iíd like ONE FREAKING BREAK FROM THIS ASSININE HEAT? Do you hear my, God? Are you there? Itís me, Laura.

So Iím sexy, Iím sweaty, my feet have swollen upon into little red balloon animals, my face has melted off, and I have to go talk to Lil Guyís scoutmaster, because thatís just the kind of nerdy family we are. We have a scoutmaster, he wears the uniform, and WE LIKE HIM. WE THINK HEíS COOL.

This has been a hit-n-run joinal entry, Ďspecially for you (and YOU Ė you know who you are, or donít you? Or maybe Iím making this part up. Or am I?), compliments of me.

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