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2006-02-08 - 6:01 p.m.

Lucy, Monkeys, Footballs

2:30 pm, Theo's where I am simultaneously dealing with two separately budget crises, 1 technical crisis, and one outside organization being an ass.

(You think I'm kidding? That's how many people were talking to me at the same time.)

Two of my discipline leads who respectively fit the Loric and Kung-fu-David-Carradine archetypes had to peal me off the ceiling ... okay, I know. No one needs to hear me use that kind of language. Tell them no, hell no, they've known about for a month and if they couldn't give proper notice then they can just act like freakin' grownups and send the paperwork. I have their boss's boss's phone number and I am a millimeter from using it. I am busy and I no longer have time for this crap.


There's no way in hell I'm going to get to go to Ymir this weekend.

I've clocked 40 hours already this week. I've missed a haircut I sorely needed and PT for the debiliating headaches.

But, hey, there's at least six more working hours between now and 1 am.


Tomorrow is Melly's birthday and I don't care if the building catches on fire, we're taking her out to dinner though I have no idea how we'll get a present better than having her Steelers win the Superbowl.


Yes, I know who won the Superbowl. Be amazed.

For now, I have sweet Roland bringing me a steak for dinner. Rare meat, a shot of whisky, and then I can crank the Bruce Springsteen '75 London concert disk back up and get to work.

Scribble to Theo

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