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Home, at last, finally.
I've spent the last few days bouncing between work, barbecues, and D's place and now I'm home! Finally! Yay for my giant feather bed! For not sharing! For my working shower! My laptop with it's nice huge keyboard (relatively speaking)! My late night string cheese! My lame ass logic puzzle books! My own clothes!
It's good to be here.
O is calling this week "Fiesta Semana." I'm inclined to agree with her, there's three barbecues, two bon voyages, a Pirates of the Caribbean movie, and a trip to the river to be negotiated. Unfortunately it's also "Trabaja Semana" and I've got work to do, resumes to send out, and projects to both start and finish (and let's not even talk about my bills). More fun, less responsibility...please. There should be a law about these things. Alas. Instead, I'm channeling supergirl and am diligently trying to meet all of my social and professional responsibilities, however, it usually results in my being tired at work and comatose during parties. I feel so damned old. In my prime, I could burn the candle at both ends for months at time without feeling tired---these days, eh, if I don't get at least 7 hours of sleep tonight, heads roll.
And according to that, I should be in bed by now.
*groans*
D woke me up this morning by telling me that we WERE GOING to Burning Man, even if it meant that he had to pay for it. It's a generous offer, considering that just the tickets are $225 a piece and going up every week. He, the great disorganizer, also offered to get everything ready for the trip. I'm sure this is a bluff given his less than stellar organizational abilities, but it's a touching testament to just how badly he wants me to go this year. I started to argue with him and he got all caveman on me and told me we were going. It was amusing. I've never been able to attend the festival in the past because it has always coincided with the first week of classes, but it seems at though this year I have no excuse. I'm wary of a week in the desert with my nearest and dearest. Social issues aside, I'm really sensitive to the sun, burn very easily, and am easily fatigued in the heat. D assures me (with his own fair skin glowing) that these things can be easily overcome. I'm just curious enough to believe him. Normally I'd say no, but I'm trying to view things as an adventure...nekkid hipsters on the playa certainly falls within that context.
I've spent the last few days bouncing between work, barbecues, and D's place and now I'm home! Finally! Yay for my giant feather bed! For not sharing! For my working shower! My laptop with it's nice huge keyboard (relatively speaking)! My late night string cheese! My lame ass logic puzzle books! My own clothes!
It's good to be here.
O is calling this week "Fiesta Semana." I'm inclined to agree with her, there's three barbecues, two bon voyages, a Pirates of the Caribbean movie, and a trip to the river to be negotiated. Unfortunately it's also "Trabaja Semana" and I've got work to do, resumes to send out, and projects to both start and finish (and let's not even talk about my bills). More fun, less responsibility...please. There should be a law about these things. Alas. Instead, I'm channeling supergirl and am diligently trying to meet all of my social and professional responsibilities, however, it usually results in my being tired at work and comatose during parties. I feel so damned old. In my prime, I could burn the candle at both ends for months at time without feeling tired---these days, eh, if I don't get at least 7 hours of sleep tonight, heads roll.
And according to that, I should be in bed by now.
*groans*
D woke me up this morning by telling me that we WERE GOING to Burning Man, even if it meant that he had to pay for it. It's a generous offer, considering that just the tickets are $225 a piece and going up every week. He, the great disorganizer, also offered to get everything ready for the trip. I'm sure this is a bluff given his less than stellar organizational abilities, but it's a touching testament to just how badly he wants me to go this year. I started to argue with him and he got all caveman on me and told me we were going. It was amusing. I've never been able to attend the festival in the past because it has always coincided with the first week of classes, but it seems at though this year I have no excuse. I'm wary of a week in the desert with my nearest and dearest. Social issues aside, I'm really sensitive to the sun, burn very easily, and am easily fatigued in the heat. D assures me (with his own fair skin glowing) that these things can be easily overcome. I'm just curious enough to believe him. Normally I'd say no, but I'm trying to view things as an adventure...nekkid hipsters on the playa certainly falls within that context.
