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Mar. 5th, 2002 12:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quislibetA tedious day so far, beginning with the earlier of two convenient buses leaving early, so that I saw it hurtle by my stop, the third on its route, from half a block away when it should have been just leaving the depot.
I decided to walk to the depot rather than wait twenty minutes in the cold, with a brief stop in the Red Lion Smoke Shop because of said cold, where, while browsing new game releases, I heard disturbing grunting noises from the direction of the porn section. Then to the depot, where I waited for a while; the bus never showed up. So I took a still later bus.
Then I couldn't find any damn cinnamon buns in the greater Boston area. Well, all right, at any of three different usually cinnamon-bun-bearing locations. But still.
And now at work for the usual technical difficulties and working to correct some of the messiest proofs I have ever seen. Our publishers have surpassed themselves in incompetence.
Oh well.
Meanwhile, J. is still waiting anxiously to hear about the job she applied for fifteen million years ago, or however long it was. At this point she'll still have to attend one more hated trustee meeting at her current job, as it will fall well within the required notice time. It will also perhaps cause some trickiness with our Paris trip.
And that's in the best-case scenario, i.e., that she hears today or tomorrow and that she gets the job.
What the hell is taking them so fucking long?
In other news, after today's tedious work I will have the rest of the week off to do different tedious work on my own time. Hooray.
In other news, I don't care what damn Willa Cather character or which April 1994 Tonight Show guest or what kind of heat-resistant kitchen utensil or which "Gor" novel you are.
I decided to walk to the depot rather than wait twenty minutes in the cold, with a brief stop in the Red Lion Smoke Shop because of said cold, where, while browsing new game releases, I heard disturbing grunting noises from the direction of the porn section. Then to the depot, where I waited for a while; the bus never showed up. So I took a still later bus.
Then I couldn't find any damn cinnamon buns in the greater Boston area. Well, all right, at any of three different usually cinnamon-bun-bearing locations. But still.
And now at work for the usual technical difficulties and working to correct some of the messiest proofs I have ever seen. Our publishers have surpassed themselves in incompetence.
Oh well.
Meanwhile, J. is still waiting anxiously to hear about the job she applied for fifteen million years ago, or however long it was. At this point she'll still have to attend one more hated trustee meeting at her current job, as it will fall well within the required notice time. It will also perhaps cause some trickiness with our Paris trip.
And that's in the best-case scenario, i.e., that she hears today or tomorrow and that she gets the job.
What the hell is taking them so fucking long?
In other news, after today's tedious work I will have the rest of the week off to do different tedious work on my own time. Hooray.
In other news, I don't care what damn Willa Cather character or which April 1994 Tonight Show guest or what kind of heat-resistant kitchen utensil or which "Gor" novel you are.
