Title: The geek returns
Music du jour: Dixie Chicks, Wide Open Spaces
No, I Didn't Die
Nor did I check into the hospital for malnutrition, get shipped off to a mental institution to be treated for luser-induced insanity, or disappear to some remote island country to be fawned over by beautiful women who speak limited English, but are good with a bottle of suntan oil. (Although that last one is appealing.) I have merely been... busy. Yes. Although there needs to be another word other than "busy" to describe my life the last month. Try "hellaciously, unbelievably overworked and undersexed". I realize that's a phrase, and try as you might, you will probably be unable to find any synonyms for it in a thesaurus. However. It is completely accurate.
Now that my excuses and half-hearted penance are out of the way, I shall enumerate. Well... more or less, events of the past four weeks can be summed up thusly: Cynthia visited for a week, we moved, we gained a roommate at the new house (and his cats), Bill got a girlfriend, we had a couple of parties, I racked up several hundred hours on EN, I stopped working at Spumco, I started working at an Internet start-up, I ate, I slept, I pooped. *whew* That's about it. Really.
The new job is the biggest news, I suppose. Spumco.com (no, that's not its real name, and you know it) is about 35 employees strong and is in a nice part of Boulder. Which means my commute has stretched somewhat, but it's a great drive, straight down Diagonal Highway into Boulder. The office is a block from a brewpub and about a quarter mile from Whole Foods. (So I have no excuse not to eat regularly, Cynthia, or well.) The work is good, the people are nice, and the women are very very nice to look at. Yeeeah. That always helps make work fun.
The best part about my job isn't the 5000 shares of pre-IPO stock I get to buy at a ridiculously low price, or the Enterprise 450's in the machine room, or even the location within Boulder... it's the Playstation in the break area. It's the two big couches with reclining chairs built in. It's the damn break room kitchen area with all the free soda and Goldfish crackers and M&M's and pretzels and popcorn and ice cream and cookies and cereal and Nutrigrain bars you can possibly swill. Oh yeah... life is good.
And In Other News...
Cynthia is en route to New Orleans for a conference for school. The group missed their plane in Kansas City and has been playing hopscotch around the Midwest for the past half a day now. Last I heard they were stuck in Memphis. While this is a nice place to be stuck, if you have to be stuck anywhere, the Memphis airport in particular isn't very habitable. Believe me, I know; I get to fly into there every time I go home to Mississippi. Cynthia called me from a pay phone sounding harried and hassled. If they can't get the next flight out to New Orleans, they're going to have to try Amtrak. I am not envious of the poor sods right now. Since I'm a worrier about my loved ones traveling, I'm in a state of general ickiness and angst, and will likely remain so until she calls me. Stuff like this always makes me wish I was there with the person traveling. Not that it would make a damn bit of difference if I was; it's not like I could prevent a plane falling out of the sky or a car from careening over the median and plowing into us. But I still want to be there.
This is called being a control freak, kids. Don't try this at home.
-- marcie.