It's packing week for the move to the new office building. I've heard a rumor that the accent wall in my new office is burnt orange. (loud sigh here) The thought of having to look at that every day makes me irritable. Maybe I can arrange my office furniture so that I sit with my back to that wall, and maybe I can get some really big prints to cover it.
We're packing things in crates, which are not the wooden things that I think of when I think of crates, but are big plastic blue bins with locking tops. I managed to get all of my stuff into four bins - not bad for four and a half years' accumulation. We've all thrown out a ton of stuff - mainly paper. Every stick of furniture is labeled with a room designation. Jackie is running this shindig, and I hope they give her a bonus for it, because she's going to be up for three days straight making sure the movers get things out of one building and into another.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
back to Florida
This time to Boca Raton, a few hours ahead of Hurricane Rita. I endured a bumpy ride, which I hate. Actually, I hate the whole act of traveling - I don't mind being in a new place, just the process of getting there. I hate worrying about getting to the airport in enough time to check in and go through security. I hate waiting at the gates. I hate dragging my luggage around (though I hate waiting at baggage claim even more). I hate crowding into seats. I hate the noise of the plane. I hate feeling sick to my stomach and having to desperately suck on candied ginger. I hate catching colds from the re-circulated air. I hate having to go find the car to take me to the hotel. I hate the uncomfortable silence and the small talk in the car with the driver.
The hotel is painted bright pink on the outside, and the inside is dim and looks rather Spanish medieval, with lots of tapestries and dark wood and stone steps and wall sconces and pointed archways. The layout is a little weird too, with hallways and stairwells in odd places. I've gotten myself lost several times already, and it's not an overly big place.
I have to edit 140 PowerPoint slides tonight. I plan to do so in bed, with the TV on. I may even get brave enough to order room service.
The hotel is painted bright pink on the outside, and the inside is dim and looks rather Spanish medieval, with lots of tapestries and dark wood and stone steps and wall sconces and pointed archways. The layout is a little weird too, with hallways and stairwells in odd places. I've gotten myself lost several times already, and it's not an overly big place.
I have to edit 140 PowerPoint slides tonight. I plan to do so in bed, with the TV on. I may even get brave enough to order room service.
Sunday, September 4, 2005
engaged!
No, not me. Emily. After six years, it's about time she and Jamie decided things one way or the other.
The whole family met at Red Robin for Em's birthday dinner. Em met me in the parking lot, and she looked a little dazed. She walked right up to me and just said, "I'm getting married," and showed me the ring. It's a nice ring, too.
Hugs all around. She asked me not to tell Dad because she wanted to tell him herself. When we were seated, she kept her left hand under the table. Dad was perusing the menu, and Em suddenly pushed the pepper shaker toward him, with her left hand, and insisted that he must want some pepper. He was pre-occupied with the menu, and wasn't paying attention. Sharon, however, got the point. So she nudged Dad, who saw the ring, and shook Jamie's hand and said "Well done." I heartily agree.
The whole family met at Red Robin for Em's birthday dinner. Em met me in the parking lot, and she looked a little dazed. She walked right up to me and just said, "I'm getting married," and showed me the ring. It's a nice ring, too.
Hugs all around. She asked me not to tell Dad because she wanted to tell him herself. When we were seated, she kept her left hand under the table. Dad was perusing the menu, and Em suddenly pushed the pepper shaker toward him, with her left hand, and insisted that he must want some pepper. He was pre-occupied with the menu, and wasn't paying attention. Sharon, however, got the point. So she nudged Dad, who saw the ring, and shook Jamie's hand and said "Well done." I heartily agree.
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