All Work and Some Reading
I made it to page 430 of 50 Shades of Grey and then I wrote a negative review of it on Good Reads and then I spit on it and returned it to the library. OK, I didn't really spit on it. But I did shove it with unnecessary force through the drop off slot at the library. It deserved it. Fortunately, Catching Fire came in the very next day and so I wasn't long without a good book. It took me three days and now I have about six weeks to wait for the final book in the trilogy. OK, full disclosure, I finished CF last night but I was tipsy so I need to reread the last two or three chapters but I can't seem to find the damned thing. Like I said, I was tipsy. Hey, it was Friday night after a l-o-n-g week.
Every week is long these days, really. I'm in the process of learning to manage others and I'm not really enjoying it. One of the people assisting me doesn't provide me with updates as often as I'd like (or as often as I've asked) and the other updates me with this weird sense of seriousness and what I can only think of as a "dire" attitude. She's very nervous and hesitant and seems to be afraid of just diving in. It's just data entry but she's stated that the learning process and the weeding through has been a real challenge. I feel bad because I really like her and she's told me that she enjoys the work and is excited about it so I can't just yank it away from her. But I can switch it up and give her the same sort of task only one that is more straightforward. The one who doesn't update me often enough I'll talk to at our next status meeting, which I've scheduled weekly. I need to stress the fact that the work has deadlines and I need to know where she is with what she is doing on a more reliable basis. I also need to know that she truly can devote X numbers hours a week if that is what she's promised and how many hours it takes for her to complete task A B or C. If not, no big deal, I just need to know. So yeah, not enjoying this but I'm doing my best to understand that I have to do it and I have to allow for the reality that I CANNOT DO EVERY SINGLE THING. Shudder.
Dreamer, Packer, Eater, Chef
Woke up before 7 a.m. again today, a weird new Saturday habit. Was extremely exhausted of course, so I just huddled on my couch and watched Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy. I liked it but I'm not exactly sure why. I like mysteries of this type, no gore or car chases or anything like that, just intrigue and a search for an answer. It takes place during the Cold War and there is a mole in British intelligence and this older guy who was forced out is asked by a minister (Prime? I don't know) to find the mole*. Very straight forward. However, I didn't read about it so I didn't know it was set during the Cold War until I finally looked it up after obsessively trying to figure out, based on clothing, whether the film took place in the past or present. That's usually pretty easy but when you're watching something about a bunch of government men, you pretty much mainly just see men in suits. In retrospect I did think "well, I guess men probably don't wear suits to work every day anymore. Duh".
The other thing I fixated on was this actor who had a baby face. He didn't look young, he looked like a giant baby. It was really bizarre. Do you remember those old cartoons that played with Bugs Bunny and Wiley Coyote and the like, the ones with the gangsters? There was one that had the baby face and I kept thinking of him when this actor was on the screen. It wasn't funny - it was really, super, ultra creepy. But Colin Firth and Benedict Cumberbatch were also in the movie so I just looked at them and felt happy and warm.
Then I took a quick nap and dreamed I was packing so when I woke up, I packed. Oh! I just remembered that in my dream I came across a whole slew of wooden utensils, packs of them like I'd bought a nice set, forgotten about it, bought another one, and had also been gifted a set. I wonder what kind of life dream me had that required so many wooden spoons and forks and so on and so forth? Really glad I don't actually have them. Real me just has a lot of big knives, some butcher, some serrated, some others.
And now? Now I need to clean and run to the store for soda (generic diet Coke if you're interested... even if you aren't, that's what I'll get) and fight the temptation to take another nap.
*Reread this after my update (below) and saw that I originally wrote "file the mole." Under M, I would think.
I set about doing some chores and decided to vacuum, the most odious of chores due to my shitty vacuum and the abundance of hay all around (ahem, Lord and Master likes his hay). Well, the vacuum decided to not suck up anything, not even try. So I set about the lovely task of taking out the canister, checking the filters, and taking the fucker apart, getting filthy, sweating over getting the little screws out, and then throwing my hands in the air and saying "fuck this shit" before putting on proper clothing (read: what I wore yesterday), throwing the 50 Shades* item into the dumpster, and driving to Target where I purchased ainsanely expensive** new one. Sweaty and annoyed, I am now home, having put together the Shark Navigator Lift-Away and trying it out. I think it might be a success but I was pretty excited about my old Bissel so who knows. Here's hoping.
*That is my new way of defining truly disagreeable items in life. If they are really worthless and terrible, they are 50 Shades. Thus, my 50 Shades of vacuum has been thrown, with vigor, into the dumpster.
**Well, expensive for me. It turned out to be $190 something and I know for a fact that a friend of mine who shall remain nameless and only be known as Shunter happens to have a belt that costs more. My vacuum cost less than a belt. But still.
I made it to page 430 of 50 Shades of Grey and then I wrote a negative review of it on Good Reads and then I spit on it and returned it to the library. OK, I didn't really spit on it. But I did shove it with unnecessary force through the drop off slot at the library. It deserved it. Fortunately, Catching Fire came in the very next day and so I wasn't long without a good book. It took me three days and now I have about six weeks to wait for the final book in the trilogy. OK, full disclosure, I finished CF last night but I was tipsy so I need to reread the last two or three chapters but I can't seem to find the damned thing. Like I said, I was tipsy. Hey, it was Friday night after a l-o-n-g week.
Every week is long these days, really. I'm in the process of learning to manage others and I'm not really enjoying it. One of the people assisting me doesn't provide me with updates as often as I'd like (or as often as I've asked) and the other updates me with this weird sense of seriousness and what I can only think of as a "dire" attitude. She's very nervous and hesitant and seems to be afraid of just diving in. It's just data entry but she's stated that the learning process and the weeding through has been a real challenge. I feel bad because I really like her and she's told me that she enjoys the work and is excited about it so I can't just yank it away from her. But I can switch it up and give her the same sort of task only one that is more straightforward. The one who doesn't update me often enough I'll talk to at our next status meeting, which I've scheduled weekly. I need to stress the fact that the work has deadlines and I need to know where she is with what she is doing on a more reliable basis. I also need to know that she truly can devote X numbers hours a week if that is what she's promised and how many hours it takes for her to complete task A B or C. If not, no big deal, I just need to know. So yeah, not enjoying this but I'm doing my best to understand that I have to do it and I have to allow for the reality that I CANNOT DO EVERY SINGLE THING. Shudder.
Dreamer, Packer, Eater, Chef
Woke up before 7 a.m. again today, a weird new Saturday habit. Was extremely exhausted of course, so I just huddled on my couch and watched Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy. I liked it but I'm not exactly sure why. I like mysteries of this type, no gore or car chases or anything like that, just intrigue and a search for an answer. It takes place during the Cold War and there is a mole in British intelligence and this older guy who was forced out is asked by a minister (Prime? I don't know) to find the mole*. Very straight forward. However, I didn't read about it so I didn't know it was set during the Cold War until I finally looked it up after obsessively trying to figure out, based on clothing, whether the film took place in the past or present. That's usually pretty easy but when you're watching something about a bunch of government men, you pretty much mainly just see men in suits. In retrospect I did think "well, I guess men probably don't wear suits to work every day anymore. Duh".
The other thing I fixated on was this actor who had a baby face. He didn't look young, he looked like a giant baby. It was really bizarre. Do you remember those old cartoons that played with Bugs Bunny and Wiley Coyote and the like, the ones with the gangsters? There was one that had the baby face and I kept thinking of him when this actor was on the screen. It wasn't funny - it was really, super, ultra creepy. But Colin Firth and Benedict Cumberbatch were also in the movie so I just looked at them and felt happy and warm.
Then I took a quick nap and dreamed I was packing so when I woke up, I packed. Oh! I just remembered that in my dream I came across a whole slew of wooden utensils, packs of them like I'd bought a nice set, forgotten about it, bought another one, and had also been gifted a set. I wonder what kind of life dream me had that required so many wooden spoons and forks and so on and so forth? Really glad I don't actually have them. Real me just has a lot of big knives, some butcher, some serrated, some others.
And now? Now I need to clean and run to the store for soda (generic diet Coke if you're interested... even if you aren't, that's what I'll get) and fight the temptation to take another nap.
*Reread this after my update (below) and saw that I originally wrote "file the mole." Under M, I would think.
UPDATED
Gahhhhh!!!! Why the hell do kids look so forward to being grownups? I've never understood that and I feel I was always totally right to think it would suck quite a bit.I set about doing some chores and decided to vacuum, the most odious of chores due to my shitty vacuum and the abundance of hay all around (ahem, Lord and Master likes his hay). Well, the vacuum decided to not suck up anything, not even try. So I set about the lovely task of taking out the canister, checking the filters, and taking the fucker apart, getting filthy, sweating over getting the little screws out, and then throwing my hands in the air and saying "fuck this shit" before putting on proper clothing (read: what I wore yesterday), throwing the 50 Shades* item into the dumpster, and driving to Target where I purchased a
*That is my new way of defining truly disagreeable items in life. If they are really worthless and terrible, they are 50 Shades. Thus, my 50 Shades of vacuum has been thrown, with vigor, into the dumpster.
**Well, expensive for me. It turned out to be $190 something and I know for a fact that a friend of mine who shall remain nameless and only be known as Shunter happens to have a belt that costs more. My vacuum cost less than a belt. But still.
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