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Well, not loud to hear anymore...yet.
Tonight, the last of the books go into boxes. The last of the "little" stuff gets put under control, so the only thing the carpet installers have to do tomorrow is move "big" stuff.
And not even sushi was enough to tempt anyone here at work. The losers are going fishing. *pbffft*
But I have Hartmans tonight to pack boxes! Mark and his Dad and some of the big girls....I should ask Mark to bring the Mavica so Rey can see how big they really are! No, Mara is not 4 anymore...*chuckles evilly.* If getting older is misery, it needs company. Ha HA!
Next weekend is Comic Con. Next weekend, Jim works. Next weekend, Saturday, is the kid's birthday BBQ. How the hell do I get Comic Con in? Sunday. Right. Okay. Maybe. Sheeyit.
Today, Jim is back at work. He's already gotten an earful, I'm sure - first when I scooted him out the door this moring - "Hey, you're the one who has to be there on time - let's GO!" Being off for a week sure screws up you priority engine. Then, when he calls me to give my payroll figures, I also find that he's not going near NICU until the cough clears up. Ya think? *huffs* This is the facility that GAVE it to him, thank you very much - along with the gastroenteritis from hell the first week in July! NOW, they want to do some kind of infectious control. How about for him?
So, I nag him into following some precautions himself. Go, me.
And then we figure out just how short paid he's going to be in two weeks, and I have to be a bitch and tell him no goodies.
He's asked to see Phantom in Orange County. I'd like to go to Comic Con and fly down and back.
I need to register the software I downloaded this week...and gee, a new hard drive to store all the mp3s would be nice.
The list grows. We're taking everyone out to dinner tonight. And I'm driving the truck home.
Suckage.
Tonight, the last of the books go into boxes. The last of the "little" stuff gets put under control, so the only thing the carpet installers have to do tomorrow is move "big" stuff.
And not even sushi was enough to tempt anyone here at work. The losers are going fishing. *pbffft*
But I have Hartmans tonight to pack boxes! Mark and his Dad and some of the big girls....I should ask Mark to bring the Mavica so Rey can see how big they really are! No, Mara is not 4 anymore...*chuckles evilly.* If getting older is misery, it needs company. Ha HA!
Next weekend is Comic Con. Next weekend, Jim works. Next weekend, Saturday, is the kid's birthday BBQ. How the hell do I get Comic Con in? Sunday. Right. Okay. Maybe. Sheeyit.
Today, Jim is back at work. He's already gotten an earful, I'm sure - first when I scooted him out the door this moring - "Hey, you're the one who has to be there on time - let's GO!" Being off for a week sure screws up you priority engine. Then, when he calls me to give my payroll figures, I also find that he's not going near NICU until the cough clears up. Ya think? *huffs* This is the facility that GAVE it to him, thank you very much - along with the gastroenteritis from hell the first week in July! NOW, they want to do some kind of infectious control. How about for him?
So, I nag him into following some precautions himself. Go, me.
And then we figure out just how short paid he's going to be in two weeks, and I have to be a bitch and tell him no goodies.
He's asked to see Phantom in Orange County. I'd like to go to Comic Con and fly down and back.
I need to register the software I downloaded this week...and gee, a new hard drive to store all the mp3s would be nice.
The list grows. We're taking everyone out to dinner tonight. And I'm driving the truck home.
Suckage.
