bootleg mornings NO. 347

Yeah, so can we talk about sleeping in, moving so slowly in the morning coz i gave up on putting my contacts in, then realizing on the train that i really was going to go through my day not being able to see? Not so fun. Then after we talk about that, how 'bout we discuss getting to work late to run headlong into 3 projects and a boss in a skirtsuit, client visit happening before i could take my coat off, running to CB to support the evil corporate giant and not even making it back in time to bring the food to the meeting-- only of course i did, and of course i interrupted everyone and it was awful and i hate it but what was i going to do? stand outside the meeting room with the tray of muffins and bagels, waiting until i thought it might be ok for me to go in? It just didn't help the situation that i was sweaty and dishevelled from running over there to procure the aforementioned breakfast food.

I wish i could see. or hear. jesus.

govinda jaya

I haven’t been listening to a word these people are saying. I have officially landed in conference call hell and anne didn’t even show up. Its like, look, bitch, the reason I missed the last call was because I had no money in my bank account, couldn’t get on the train, and then once I finally got on, the train stopped on the tracks for 30 minutes. So you’d better have a similarly good excuse.

not that it matters, but yes…

I was able to see two old friends this weekend, wonderfully. Um, drinking drinking drinking (thanks mom for the two bloody marys and vodka cranberry (oh wait, maybe somebody else got me the second bloody mary)) then hiking over to jefferson to get hassled by the bus driver after talking to another longlost friend and a random french teacher. Twelve hours later, teardrop flower hellos and city tours, photo sharing and family meeting, more parentally-provided alcohol, staying up past 4 4 nights in a row, 40s of zima by the lake…… it was a great weekend.