To write

Another note-leaver on another journal made the point: I shouldn’t go reading other people’s journals, until I’ve written my entry first.

The reading affects/effects my mood, my mode, my whatever…and then I don’t know what to write. It seems forced somehow.

Plus, I’ve run out of time.

The Fern was over today. She’s planning her wedding, and we started talking about champagne and I was telling about how I picked up cases of Ballatore Gran Spumanti on the cheap for my folks wedding anniversary a few years back, and it was “good enough” that even my t-totaling mother was seen carrying a bottle around with her (although she always poured it into her glass before drinking it).

This led into the consideration that there are other champagnes in the world, and perhaps we should sample some. Besides, I was in the mood for some Berringer White Zin, and I was out…

So we picked up 3 different champagnes and brought them back to my house. After chilling them for a bit, we popped the corks and began sampling. Then George called, and we invited him over to help us finish off the bottles.

He wasn’t enough. So after sitting and talking with him for about an hour, we insisted that he fetch his wife, and some Taco Bell, and come back and we’d all finish the alcohol.

And he did.

So while he was gone, the Fern helped me tidy up the house — which we DIDNT get finished before they showed up… so we spent the evening crowded around the iMac in the Kitchen (the Cook) watching “the Dead Terrorist” and Trunk Monkey videos on YouTube.

It was nice to entertain spontaneously, even though the kitchen is the most unkempt room of my house. They seemed to have fun, even if George’s wife passed on any alcohol.

The Fern stayed after they left, doing some legal work using my laptop, and I finished cleaning the rest of the house except the kitchen. After the Fern left, I tidied up a bit more, then came in here and checked OD as a precursor to shutting down my laptop… and that was an hour or more ago!

Now its a quick shower and bed.

Last week at work was the worst work week of my life. I cried for the first time at my desk, and considered just walking out the door for the second time ever in ten years. We have really got to get our manager to actually MANAGE the department, instead of acting like another specialist like the rest of his staff.

So, yeah, I honestly hate my job right now.

So hopefully a warm shower will help me to sleep better anticipating my dread for going in tomorrow a.m.

Peace out.