It's been that kind of week. Eighteen hours to vacation.
- You can tell that it's been a energy-sapping work week when I can sit down and calculate how much I am being paid per minute (after tax) but cannot remember how much I'm paid per annum.
- Lawn signs are sprouting as the municipal election looms. Our neighbours briefly sported a sign for the leftmost mayoral candidate. I nearly fell over when I saw it on their lawn cause they're Reform Party supporters. It's gone now--replaced with a sign for one of the more conservative people running for council.
- Douglas is drinking the beer that smells like desperation. Beer aged in whiskey casks.
- Much of my work life has become a strained email version of "Who's on First". And no I don't get to play the Abbot bit.
- Jack of that show is getting on my nerves. Already. (See. Random.)
- Excessive tiredness led to brattiness last night. Slightly redeemed self by making the tea and sending bratty-self to bed. Lost points by forgetting to pour the tea.
- Did I mention that vacation starts in 18 hours?
Heather
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