Today was frustrating at the onset. My coworker had a bitch fit when I told her again that something I said couldn't be done was still impossible. I'm not angry at her, though; I'm sad. People are so inexplicable to me. She'll ask the same question repeatedly if she doesn't like the answer. Eventually, I become annoyed and stop answering, which she takes for me giving her the answer she wants. Then later, she finds out that my original answer still holds and becomes angry at me. It's such a pathetic, useless cycle. I tried once to short-circuit it, but she seems determined to stay her doomed course.
After some minor car trouble, I stopped at Salumi for lunch. If you live in Seattle and ever get near Pioneer Square, you must have lunch there. It's the kind of place Frommer and Zagat whisper about in those hushed tones of true insiders.
I got to work and started doing my thing. After a bit, Hot Marketing Girl and I got to talking. I missed the memo, but apparently today was skin-tight, spaghetti strap top and super-tight velvet pants day. As she turned, I saw a tat peeking out from beneath her top, and I asked about it. She showed me her angel wings, and I showed her my big black "chaos" tattoo. She returned the favor by showing her very low ass antlers--she had to pull her pants down a little to show me. I got a peek at her underwire in trade for my "superstar". Later, she was dancing around in the hall, and she was quite captivating. If she wasn't a dancer at some point in her life, I'll eat my shoes.
I chatted with some of my friends as I worked and actually accomplished something at said work. Things were uniformly leisurely, and I like that. I watched The Works of Director Chris Cunningham while I worked. Alternately, I listened to the Sex Pistols or Radiohead.
A little after six, I was told that our catering partner was holding an open house out front, and I was encouraged to partake in the free pizza. I over-partook of some chicken alfredo pizza and was less than enthused about life for a few minutes.
As I was driving home, I had one of those stupidly annoying epiphanies. The epiphany? All my whining aside, I lead a pretty decent life. My major concerns at any point are whether I should learn how to sword fight or blow fire next. My job isn't very stressful, and I can bum around in broken-down khakis, a tee, and my Camper clogs all day. I have a great contingent of friends. Pretty women will flirt and talk with me lots of the time--this is incredibly inexplicable to me. I have cool toys. Ultimately, I want for nothing really.
It's hard to imagine why I'm always so whiny.
I grabbed a few things at PCC and came home straight-away. I've got stuff to cook, so hopefully I can actually have a home-cooked dinner again soon. Once here, I was able to crank out a few more projects and even write a little. I'm especially pleased with, "Like the proud samurai of old, he insolently stared death in the eye."
The only oddity today was that I didn't hang out with anyone from this site. That hasn't happened in about a week. Oddly, I kind of missed them--even if I did chat with half of them today. If any of you are reading this, all my love, and I'll see you for our hectic, hectic weekend we've got coming up.
After some minor car trouble, I stopped at Salumi for lunch. If you live in Seattle and ever get near Pioneer Square, you must have lunch there. It's the kind of place Frommer and Zagat whisper about in those hushed tones of true insiders.
I got to work and started doing my thing. After a bit, Hot Marketing Girl and I got to talking. I missed the memo, but apparently today was skin-tight, spaghetti strap top and super-tight velvet pants day. As she turned, I saw a tat peeking out from beneath her top, and I asked about it. She showed me her angel wings, and I showed her my big black "chaos" tattoo. She returned the favor by showing her very low ass antlers--she had to pull her pants down a little to show me. I got a peek at her underwire in trade for my "superstar". Later, she was dancing around in the hall, and she was quite captivating. If she wasn't a dancer at some point in her life, I'll eat my shoes.
I chatted with some of my friends as I worked and actually accomplished something at said work. Things were uniformly leisurely, and I like that. I watched The Works of Director Chris Cunningham while I worked. Alternately, I listened to the Sex Pistols or Radiohead.
A little after six, I was told that our catering partner was holding an open house out front, and I was encouraged to partake in the free pizza. I over-partook of some chicken alfredo pizza and was less than enthused about life for a few minutes.
As I was driving home, I had one of those stupidly annoying epiphanies. The epiphany? All my whining aside, I lead a pretty decent life. My major concerns at any point are whether I should learn how to sword fight or blow fire next. My job isn't very stressful, and I can bum around in broken-down khakis, a tee, and my Camper clogs all day. I have a great contingent of friends. Pretty women will flirt and talk with me lots of the time--this is incredibly inexplicable to me. I have cool toys. Ultimately, I want for nothing really.
It's hard to imagine why I'm always so whiny.
I grabbed a few things at PCC and came home straight-away. I've got stuff to cook, so hopefully I can actually have a home-cooked dinner again soon. Once here, I was able to crank out a few more projects and even write a little. I'm especially pleased with, "Like the proud samurai of old, he insolently stared death in the eye."
The only oddity today was that I didn't hang out with anyone from this site. That hasn't happened in about a week. Oddly, I kind of missed them--even if I did chat with half of them today. If any of you are reading this, all my love, and I'll see you for our hectic, hectic weekend we've got coming up.
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
Now I gotta ditch the moving-out-cleaning-old-apt party with the little woman tomorrow. I Feel drawn to see everyone. Plus maybe there will be some making out tomorrow. Dont worry, you'll be first.
We need to grab lunch or something sometime soon. What time do you have to work tomorrow.
Just kiddin aboot the making out. I only jest like that with my close homeys.
Let me know when there is Ffffffffiiiirrrrrrrrrrrreeeee going on. I love the most neccesary elements of mans survival-then twisting them to my fancy.
Later bra,
Rob