and it’s very strange to be here on a Friday night by myself. Cindy’s off at a Browncoat or Stargate thing and Paul’s in Ontario with his sis, so no musique. Peggy was supposed to get the Bean today but he’s been illing. The little snot machine, just like mine were.
One of my coworkers was fired this week. Nobody saw it coming; nobody is sure why; everybody is very sad about it. Because either the bosses screwed up big time or she actually did something work getting fired over, and either way I don’t want to believe it. My boss sat me down and gave me just enough more detail that I’m no longer panicking and chewing on my arm, but it was sad.
This time last year I was suicidal. Man, I wish somebody had told me to take Vitamin D. I haven’t come anywhere close to feeling depressed – although I do give in to anxiety once in a while – since I started taking it. I’m sleeping better, my joints quit hurting, my back is better, and my mood – for February – is great. Neurochemistry is shore strange.
Sue’s mom died two days ago. She made a good death – if you’re going to die in hospital, dying 10 minutes after your husband has told you he loves you, surrounded by other family members, after 75 years of marriage, isn’t a bad way to go. Sue just went to the board meeting like nothing had happened. I know she’s sad, but she’s such a trouper, and I just love and respect her so much, she’s really an important person in my life and I hardly ever talk about her.
Peggy gave me asparagus last night, I just cooked it up with the leftover Chinese food Keith bought me, om nom nom.
Jeff and I are loving Sg1. I was expecting to find it cheesy, and it is, but in that happy making way the best cheese in ST:TOS was. We’re into season 3. The characters continue to develop, the plots are interesting, the ideas depicted show thought and are described well, the shows clip along nicely, the villains are hideously awful (so when one gets tossed into a vat of liquid nitrogen it’s HELL YEAHS all round) and I’ve even got used to the irredeemably cheesy opening score.
Margot wants to know where Jeff is. She’s hanging around the back door waiting for him to get back from Rob’s where he’s apparently doing something computery.
In the middle of all the emotional chaos at work there is even more genuine chaos. The other section of our team which got reamalgamated after the bosses shuffled stuff around yet once more, has moved in with us. I feel so sorry for the guy who moved in next to me (where somebody had been laid off from, so it’s been vacant for a couple of months). He’ll have to get used to me talking to customers loudly on the phone and cackling with laughter and singing. Yup, I’m a fucking bowl of joy to sit next to, although nobody ever complains, maybe because they are scared of my bilious and variable sense of humor.
I sang “A Habitrail named Klein” at the lunch desk today. Kevin loved it. Everybody else put up with it.
