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2002-05-17 - 7:13 a.m. dog end of a day gone by
I should have already left for work. I tried to convince my kitty to go in my place, but he ran and hid under the bed. I don't blame him for that response. If there was room for me under the bed too, I'd be right there next to him.
I'm working on a Web project at work that is gong to hell in a handbasket. Yesterday, when a co-worker spied me outside, quickly walking away from our building, and asked me where I was going, it is true that I did, in fact, tell him I was "going to hell in a handbasket." Like every inappropriate for the workplace/co-workers comment I make, this was the source of much mirth. I like the fact that my bad language is considered to be one of my "charming quirks." The project I'm working on is a horror. Every time I log on to validate that the defects I've found have been fixed, I find there have been several new bugs or errors introduced into the content or programming code. I dread logging into the site. Hence my inability to haul myself out of bed and into work at my regularly scheduled time. I even tried bribing myself with a bacon, egg and cheese bagel (usually a slam-dunk bribe with me.) But it didn't work. I found myself thinking "I'm not really in the mood for bacon, and never want to eat another bagel." What's going on here????? I'm always in the mood for bacon! I'm starting to worry myself. After dragging myself home from work and post-work activities this week, I've kept up with current events by reading DiscoDave and other lovely Diaryland Journals. Perhaps this explains why I finally bought myself a Swiffer (it appears almost everyone on my buddy list already has one and loves it to pieces.) Today will end with sushi and a DocFest film on They Might Be Giants. That should kick me out of this funk.
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