24 hours from now we’ll be leaving Connecticut, beginning the long drive to Maine.

Look out, Great Spruce Head Island, we’re a-comin!

It’s been a rather crazy week here at the office, as we have some big muckamucks coming in, and we’re getting our big muckamucks to meet with their big muckamucks and talk about muckymuck stuff, so I’ve been setting up meetings and working on agendas and developing menus and room sketches and working with a manager who is, if you don’t mind my saying, BATSHIT FUCKING CRAZY. Overdemanding and micromanagerial, and never satisfied with what you do even when you do exactly what he tells you to, since you didn’t listen to him correctly or pay enough attention. I’ve never been so stressed out here before. I hate it. As guilty as I feel to be dumping the rest of the work onto someone else (and I think I’ve actually done most of it), I’m so glad that I don’t have to think about this, or anything else, for a week.

Other highlights from this week included knocking Twin A on the head accidentally with a small piece of wood while trying to help him assemble a futon frame. It reminds me of the Shel Silverstein poem (and actually in my head, from the Free to Be You and Me song):

Now some kind of help is the kind of help that helping’s all about,
And some kind of help is the kind of help we all could do without.

(Guess which kind mine is?)

We’re closing up at 2, I’m meeting our awesome bird sitter at 3 to give her keys, and then cleaning up the apartment, buying various supplies, and then packing packing packing!

UPDATE: Wow. I meant to post this and must have gotten too crazy. Home cleaning up as best I can before the packing. Time to vacuum and mop. Sweet!

http://news.yahoo.com/nphotos/World-Ugliest-Dog-Contest/ss/events/lf/062609ugliestdog

Of course, the one morning I drag myself out of bed at what is a normal time for most other people, but ungodly early for me, get myself in the shower promptly instead of staring at the internet for a half hour, and get out the door with plenty of time to get to work, and pick up the candidate that needs to meet with one of my managers, when I just miss a train, and another one doesn’t come for 20 minutes. 20 MINUTES. So then I have to rush to the security desk to pick up the candidate, and I have no idea what his name is, I just know it’s long and starts with an “E”, and get him up to his interview, which I do.

Then I call Time Warner to see if they can possibly move my appointment from tomorrow at 8 am to today at 2 pm. I get put on hold for 10 minutes, then they tell me that someone can come today, but they’re not going to tell me when they’re coming, and if someone isn’t there when I get there they’re going to charge me $40. Why can’t you just call me a half hour before you come? Then I’ll make sure I’m home in time. Unless the subway stalls for 20 minutes again.

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

How are you today?

UPDATE: So I left work early to make sure that I would be here in case they show up, and of course, they’re not here. I expect that they’ll either come at 6:55, or not show up at all, and then either show up right at 8 am tomorrow morning, after our planned night of carousing as PSB’s sister is in town for her bachelorette party (and did I mention we were just in Texas? I should blog about that, too), or they won’t show up tomorrow night either, and I’ll be stuck without cable again for another week. AWESOME!

Sir, it’s called gambling for a reason. Shut up and pay up. You will be laughed out of court.

P.S. Look, PSB, it’s your people!

Twin A blew my mind with this last night. Katie Couric is the BEST. Hillary’s pretty good too.

Everyone stared at my lunch today: a salad and a strawberry smoothie. What they don’t realize is that in two hours I’m going to eat a half a box of girl scout cookies.

PSB and I went and saw all three of The Norman Conquests plays yesterday, and they are brilliant. Very well written and extremely well performed, cleverly staged, fantastically directed. It’s really worth it to see all three, especially as they are presented on weekend days, since they’re all interlocking, and you start to piece things together. . . if you’ve got the dough, I highly recommend it.

I still want to see God of Carnage (fat chance getting tickets to that), Waiting for Godot (PSB has seen too many productions of it, so I’m going to go by myself, or maybe with Twin A), Exit the King, and The 39 Steps.

Yakkity McSneezywhore!

She was wandering the floor, looking for someone. She was all nice and friendly with me, which leads me to believe that she somehow never figured out that I despise her. Ultimately, I think that’s a good thing. I don’t even want her cubicle to accidentally fall into pieces and crush her anymore. I guess that’s because I don’t have to deal with her every day.

The woman who sits in the cube near me is warming up to me, which is good. The woman on the opposite side of my cube and I still haven’t exactly met. She’s been singing to herself a little bit, but nothing terrible.

I’ve been wondering how much noise I make - during lunch time, I’ve been getting soup and crumbling up saltines to put in it (as far as I’m concerned, soup is just a medium for consuming saltines). The neatest way to do this is while they are still in the wrappers, so I guess I’m making a lot of squeaky plastic noises. I try not to slurp my soup, at least.

Last night’s Moth was really fantastic. PSB did a stellar job with the direction. Malcolm Gladwell was the “headliner”, but the whole line up was top notch - Sarah Jones, Steve Osborne, Jessi Klein, and Peter Zilahy. We sat with Peter after the show - he is fascinating. He has been to numerous countries going through revolutions and in some cases civil wars, and has played in a rock band, but found the storytelling to be quite frightening. . . he was great though. Everybody was.

Going to wrap things up here, water the plants, and head home to Chompy. . . enjoy the long weekend! Are you doing anything fun?