If you haven’t been reading Unshelved this week (and why not, eh?), you should definitely check out the current run. It’s all about something as simple as a book club. Eat your heart out, Oprah.
I recommend starting with the specific strip linked below. Trust me on this.
Gah. For some reason, for a few minutes there, I thought today was Monday.
Please, somebody, shoot me now?
There are some things I occasionally lose track of in my idealistic fervor. For instance:
I love my job. I even like most of the people I work with. I hate, however, the general corporate mindset. I hate it a whole lot.
Due to wanting someone present at home for the inspection that the property management company notified us about, I took the day off. (Paranoid? Us? Why, yes, thank you.) Of course, I already had a hair appointment scheduled, so I took care of that and then came straight home.
The day was spent mostly downstairs, reading and waiting, waiting and reading. (By the way? C.J. Cherryh’s “Foreigner” books are outstanding. Just so you know.) I rather dislike sitting and waiting, mind you, but at least I got in a lot of quiet reading time for my trouble. The cats loved having a captive lap, too. (Yes, I did take my Claritin.)
So, the inspection turned out to be the maintenance guy installing new toilet-tank flappers in an effort to deal with a perceived water leak. Ho, hum. Mind you, I approve of the thinking behind it: Instead of wasting time hunting around for the source of the problem, just go after the most likely sources with a bit of new equipment. I’m all for the idea of lowering the water bill, too.
To cap the day, I had a nice early dinner out with Lil’. For once, I elected not to have a breakfast-type meal… I think I’m sort of burned out on eggs and hashbrowns for a while.
Tomorrow, back to the grind and the backlog of chores that need doing…
This, folks, is where I spent a large portion of my childhood from age 7 ‘til age 13. That town at the left edge of the lake-like river structure is Brewster, WA. If you follow the Columbia to the right and down, you’ll see Bridgeport. Just east of there is the Chief Joseph Dam. Between Brewster and Bridgeport along the south shore of the river is what’s called the Bridgeport Bar, where I’ve lived in at least three different houses that I can think off right off-hand. And if you click-drag the map a bit north and west and follow the road west out of Brewster and then up into the Indian Dan Canyon you can see where the road sort of zigzags as it goes down one side of a valley and back up the other. Right there is where my grandmother used to live, and that’s the first house we stayed in when we moved into the area. I think. (My memory’s a bit fuzzy.)
Near as I can tell from this semi-recent satellite imagery, not much has physically changed about the place. Hmm. Go figure, eh?
I know I’ve had an overwhelming day when I sit here at 5:00 realizing that I did almost nothing that I actually set out to do today. Sure, I replaced that one hard drive, but the computer swap? The new file-transfer website? The new intranet site? The monitor replacement that I promised a sales manager a week ago? The monthly checklist? Nope, didn’t get anywhere near any of that.
A visiting salesguy from Marketron asked me this afternoon how large of a staff I have to run seven radio stations’ worth of computer equipment. I just laughed, and laughed, and laughed…
