Month: March 2007

I learned today, yet again, that I work with a wonderful bunch of people, and that I’m a complete wuss-pushover-weakling. I was completely bowled over by my passive-aggressive/manipulative/pathological-lier apartment manager and nobody mocked me for completely losing it in the middle of a work day. Quite the opposite.

One question remains, though: How in the world have I managed to survive this long with such a thin skin? Something’s gotta give, and it won’t be the crazies out there. Now, if I could just find a good deal on a new or lightly used spine… Oh, and a different place of residence.

[Update: Now my mind has been polluted with dreams living in my own house (in which no maintenance problems would ever arise, of course) and of buying myself a piano. Where do such crazy dreams come from? In the extraordinarily unlikely event that I should want to or be able to afford a little house or duplex in this town, I wouldn’t have any money left over for pianos! Somebody set me straight before I start furnishing and decorating this phantom house that only lives in my head. Please!]

[Update 2: At least Ms. Psychotic Manager doesn’t leave me notes like this. Thanks, Steve, for the link!]

I’ve had a cold for 10 days now. Nothing horrible (except over the weekend when I developed a fever, stopped wanting to eat, and thought I might die, but didn’t, so I guess it’s all good), and I’m much better now, thank you. But through it all I’ve been craving lemon tea with honey.

What with rules about food in my library (which I’m sure apply to sticky sweetness like honey) I can have my thermos of hot water and my tea bag in my office, but when I want to make myself a cuppa I have to trundle downstairs to the staff room, find my little bottle of honey, disengage it from the plastic bag that catches all the extra stickiness, put a dollop into my travel mug of tea, and trundle back up to my office.

Normally this wouldn’t be a problem. In fact, normally I look on such things as an excuse to get up and move around a little. But from the onset of the cold until today, stairs had a curious and unpleasant effect on my heart and lungs. I’d get honey into my tea, trudge up the stairs, pant for a minute while I waited for my legs to stop shaking, and then continue on my merry way. Now, before you start feeling all sorry for me, consider whether the honey was really worth it…

Nope. I didn’t think so.