Had a horrible dream last night in which I was diagnosed with lung cancer. When given the diagnosis I blurted out, “But I’ve never smoked!” and then I remember that essentially I had smoked for the first 15 years of my life, since Mom smoked up until 1987. Then we segued into having to tell my parents about the cancer without trying to blame Mom for smoking. Whee.
Boring as all heck here at work. I’ve been trying to avoid too much web surfing, but have enjoyed sending semi-snarky emails to co-workers (while keeping in mind that most of them are FOIA-able, so keeping them down to an R rating). Cynical statement of the day (while discussing trophy spouses):
I prefer cats. Yes, they make me sneeze, and they fuss occasionally, but they snuggle well, you can toss them out of bed if you need to, and they’re oh-so-grateful to be fed. And they’re perpetually cute if you pick the right breed.
And now the rest of my office has left (early dismissal announced while I was in the middle of writing). I’m staying to give office coverage until 5, with the reward of 2.5 hours some other day, which I’m thinking may be Tuesday morning after Monday night’s party.