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Workin' for a Livin'

I was just being way too productive here at work. I think I actually concentrated on the tasks at hand for at least four hours straight. That's an amazing thing. Of course I snapped out of it just now as it felt like someone is poking the tender part of my brain right behind my left eye with a shrimp skewer. Speaking of skewers, Jane - remember to take yours back next time you are at my house. They are on the desk in the entry all clean and shiny and ready to be back in the drawer of their rightful owner.

I'm all stressed out because today begins two weeks straight of the meeting hosting portion of my job. Despite the fact that I hate to stand in front of people and present and that I hate even more to have to lead anyone anywhere, a large portion of my job involves just that. So tonight, I will stand in front of a group of 40 people and tell them where to go. Like as in where to go to eat dinner. And then I'll be the first one walking. Which I hate. Because despite knowing exactly where I'm going, I always feel like I'm going to wrong way when I'm leading a group of people. I'm weird like that.

What all this means to you, my lovely group of regular readers, is that I may not update for a couple of days because I'm busy trying to hold a fake smile as someone tells me to have housekeeping turn the air-conditioning down a bit for the SEVENTEENTH TIME! Why most hotels feel the need to treat their meeting rooms like an icebox, I have no clue.

The saga of the Fucktographer continues. I emailed him at 5pm last Thursday and called him on Friday and haven't heard back from him yet. I waited until 3 business days had passed, which I feel is a reasonable amount of time to respond to a request, and emailed him again after trying to call and getting piped directly into his machine. This guy really makes me sad about the whole wedding thing. All of the other people I've worked with have been great. I've made myself stress out about stuff like the wedding ring and whatnot, but the person on the other end of the line was responsive and patient. The Fucktographer angers me because he just won't respond. If he were to call and tell me I am a horrible subject to photograph, but he'll do my best to remind me to keep my eyes open, I'd probably jump for joy. Instead, I have no idea what he's doing which leads me to think he's busy photoshopping any good pictures he took to make them look bad. I wish I could stop obsessing about this, but now I've convinced myself that he's going to do a horrible job and that I'm throwing my money away. Hate it.

Alright, enough of that negative talk. If I were smart, I'd crank through the rest of the work I need to get done today so that I could go sit in my hotel room and stare at the wall. Better yet, I could go try to hunt down an all-white outfit to wear to my BACHELORETTE PARTY!!! eeeeee!!! On Saturday, all of my friends will gather about me and try their damndest to get me drunk. Yee haw! It shouldn't be too hard, because I've hardly had a chance to keep my tolerance high over the past few months. The idea is that I am supposed to wear all white and that all of my friends will wear all black. I absolutely love this idea because it puts me in charge of the wardrobe rather than having to don a "Suck for a Buck" t-shirt. At the same time, I absolutely hate the idea because this year, of all years, every clothing store decided to pay attention to that whole "no white after Labor Day" rule and there is absolutely nothing for me to wear. I have purchased an all off-white outfit that makes me think "slutty secretary", but I'm hoping to find a few hours to sneak away and find something better. I'll keep you posted - hopefully I'll have some good pics to share come Monday.

I think she got that look from watching her mommy try to dodge all the idiot college student drivers on the way to preschool.

2:52 p.m. - October 06, 2004

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