Would someone give me special dispensation to wander out the door and take a nap on a bench somewhere? Made it outside for all of 8 minutes today, and it's something like 75 degrees outside. I believe I swore that I'd play hooky the next time it was this nice, and of course it happens today...

My next post (tomorrow) will be from sunny Palm Springs.

Holy Moses, it's been SIX DAYS since I posted. I'm sorry, Ell-Jay. I've betrayed you.

I don't actually have a mountain of time to spend now, as the past six days have been spent largely swimming in the particular variety of chunky crap soup that seems to be the special of the fucking month around these parts.

In brief, I've been working on a project for the better part of 12 months that was mandated by an executive committee here at the old work farm. This project launched yesterday, and will be completed in Palm Springs this weekend and early next week. I've been leading a work group putting said project together for the better part of the past 12 months and one WEEK before the launch of said project, the #3 in command of this little outfit (it's a big outfit, so being #3 is, um, BIG) decided to go insane and question every single aspect of said well-thought-out plan. Meetings were held, passive aggressive glances were exchanged, more work was created.

The upshot of all this is that a) not a damn thing has changed, but a lot more wheels have been spinning; b) everyone involved is pissed off and demoralized; c) the project is, so far, running like gangbusters, but no one can appreciate it because they're either seething or congratulating themselves on having "intervened" when they did (which was, in substance, not at all).

I'm not the sort of person who covers up when he screws up. Seriously. I take credit for all my fuck-ups, loudly and in public. This isn't one of them. This is honestly the most rigorous rogering I've ever gotten for the best job of work I've ever done as a professional. If the money wasn't so damn good I'd quit tomorrow. My former boss used to say of things like this -- "It's a shit sandwich, served piping hot." Amen.

In other news, I'm watching Dr. Who at night and loving the bejesus out of it.

A couple weeks ago, at a particularly embarrassing moment, the charge card I use the most chose to fail. Now, having had troubles in the past, I stay in pretty close touch with my balances, and I knew there was plenty of juice but -- no go. As I've become accustomed to doing, I rolled with the punches, and the situation was worked out satisfactorily. (No dishes had to be washed.)

As it turns out, the bank had reissued 7,000 cards -- one of them mine -- because the numbers had been "compromised." Now, this is the first I had heard of the issue, but good enough. Thanks for looking out for me, please get me my card soon.

Two weeks, no card, it's "in transit." SO -- I'm using an alternate card. I go to Home Depot, get some gas, wash my car (yes, I washed my car last night (it was 75 degrees; now it's 40 and raining; clearly my fault). Today I get off the train, ready to get my ass home and watch some Good Eats. Card doesn't work. Try different machine. Still doesn't work. Fidget. Try same machine three more times. Still no go. Pay cash, drive home, get on horn.

Wait for FUGGIN EVER. The paragraph break here is used to denote the fuggin-ness of the ever I waited.

Guess what? Apparently there's been a LOT OF ACTIVITY on my card! I authorize all of said unusual transactions and all is well, but honestly.

I think I'd rather be a little more at risk and a little more certain that I can use my money when I want to.

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Which reminds me that I'm always fond of saying that anyone who wants to steal my identity is welcome to it.

Hello, dear flist. I don't have much to say today, except that I've spent the past six hours negotiating office politics and not getting a STICK of work done.

Also, I just started writing an alternative Firefly episode/screenplay last night, which may well the the single geekiest thing I've ever done or admitted to, and I have a long history in that regard.

Also, it is HELLA nice outside. I wish I had left all my windows open when I left this morning. Can't wait for the great spring Airing Out.

Well, the favorites links are gone, daddy, gone. Some of them I will remember because I lurve them, some of them will fall by the wayside, and some will remain shimmering images of What Once Was. I'm declaring it Spring Cleanin'!

Here's how you can help: Send me two or three (or more!) of your favorite links. Blogging, shopping, graphics -- anything. Every little bit helps. If I had a Sally Struthers icon, I'd use it now, but I don't think I'd ever have another use for a Struthers icon, so I won't.

PS If it's porn, just let me know so I don't crack it open at work. I know some of you were thinking about it.

I don't usually "omg" -- but OMG. One of our IT people just came around and did a quick "upgrade" (they've been doing that constantly since daylight savings) and I lost every one of my "favorites" links. Every. Single. One. Links to comics, to blogs, to people's Amazon wishlists, to funweird artsites. Everything. I feel like a room in my house just vaporized.

:-(

Good: Firefly! If I knew how to type the Homer Simpson patented drool noise, I'd insert it here.

Bad: I'm all done. No more episodes. Cry me a river.

Ugly: My bill at iTunes, where I purchased every one of those suckers. Is it evidence of my need to get some life that I want to watch them all over again, like TONIGHT?


Good: The weather outside. Have you ever noticed that just looking at the sky you can TELL it's warm out. I mean, the 70-degree blue sky looks different to me than the 20-degree blue sky. Not sure how, and I'm probably making it up, but it does.

Bad: I'm stuck here in front of this computer for 5.25 more hours. Not that I don't heart you people. I really do.

Ugly: Making me come back in after my lunch break. It's gonna get ugly.

If I don't post later, it's because I've run off with the too-damn-warm-to-be-at-work-today gypsies. I might, alternatively, be drinking beer outside at Bobby Van's and waiting to be fired.

You know, I really kinda like Texas. It's big. It's warm. There's lots of BBQ, and people don't seem to really give much of a damn what you do. I'm not saying I'm moving there tomorrow, but for the price of my 975 square foot condo, a person can buy a 4-bedroom HOUSE. With a POOL. A POOL. That's all I'm sayin'.

You wouldn't think that being out of the office for one day, and that one day being a Monday, that things could pile up so. But they do. It's sort of delightful to come back to, though -- I feel so popular. I can't wait to go home and check my mailbox -- someone is sending me entertainment in the mail and I am nearly out of Firefly, so excitement defcon levels increaseth.

This post has no point or direction. I'm back in town, my desk is piled high with work, it's going to be 70F outside today, and if all isn't entirely right with the world, things ain't all that bad either, which is a start, right?

You know you know. Friggin' Firefly! Holy moses, why didn't anyone TELL me how good this show is? Okay, okay -- a lot of people told me. Why didn't anyone duct tape my legs together and FORCE me to watch it?? I've watched 5 episodes in two days, and I have a long-ish flight tonight, which means -- oh, yeah -- MORE EPISODES.

Tasty, tasty TV.

Now, if there's something else this cool that I haven't already seen, would somebody please tell me? I promise I'll watch. Also, I know Firefly was cut down in its prime, so I'm going to need to front-load some comfort watching when the grieving process starts.