duck-shaped pain

26 June 2001
Several Half-Written Things Cobbled Together Into A Larger Whole

Good work thing: Today I told my boss I was going to take six weeks off. Notice the "told" instead of "requested" -- that's how things go in that place. If you ask politely for something, you'll never get it -- excessive wheedling and griping from The Man tends to persuade people to cancel their plans or cut them down to the bare minimum. But if you just go in there and announce it, things go much better. I don't know if he's momentarily stunned by someone doing this or just secretly respects people who tell him what to do, but the reaction was, "Oh. Okay. Write it on the calendar. About as good an outcome as I could expect, really.

Bad work thing: A big clampdown on Internet access. A spike in productivity lately has been blamed on our free and easy access to the net (although I think the boss being gone and there not being shit to do in his absence are the larger culprits here). So, no more checking mail. We can all check his mail if we like, but that's about it. So if you're wondering why the sudden scarceness of entries all of a sudden, that's the reason. [1]


It is raining outside. This is a relief. It's been hot and bone dry here the last few weeks, and the fire danger has gone through the roof. Stern-faced anchors on the news every night, admonishing us all to not play with fireworks, light campfires out in the backcountry, or toss our cigarette butts willy-nilly out of the car window. Even rubbing two sticks together or wearing leather pants down to the cowboy bar might be dangerous. Just don't do it, they warn. And then they banter. Just so you don't get too nervous.

There is thunder. It's not too loud, sounding more like someone moving a distant dining table over a faraway tile floor than thunder. Of course, it's also similar to the dull thudding sound the dog makes whenever he has seizures out on the back deck. So I hear it, and then run, panicking. You have to run and panic, because he could easily roll off the deck, shooting down the stairs. Who knows what would happen then. I look outside and there he is, napping. Or staring off into the street. Or drooling.

I'm shopping for clothes. Upcoming travel is a great excuse to buy new clothes, unfortunately. I've looked at my current wardrobe, and have decided that only a few lucky pieces of it are worthy enough to accompany me to Thailand, at least today. Once I start buying other things (priced travel packs lately? It's frightening), clothes might go by the wayside and I might just make do with what I have. But, I'll be living in these clothes for six weeks. Still, I want to buy ones that work. Since the climate over there is hot and extremely muggy (why, you might ask, with my well-documented hatred of moisture, am I going somewhere that averages 2000% humidity on a good day? Uh, because of the food?), I need summer clothes, which means I should get them now. Any day now, the parkas will start to roll in to the stores here and I may be out of luck.


[1] Actually, I don't update at work. I'm much too paranoid to do that. But I do check email and do all my other futzing around on the net there, so that when I get home, I have it all out of the way and it's time to write.

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