It’s snowing like crazy outside. Fat white fluff-flakes floating dreamily down, down and around in the white light of the streetlights. The street is filled up with snow. Clifford the Big Red Rock has a sparkly white skullcap. The plants are hunkered down, puffed up with the white stuff. We’ve had snow on the ground for almost 2 weeks now, though really it hasn’t been that much; it keeps melting down to a thin covering and then freezing. All the footprints in the yard: kid, dog, neighbor’s cat, are softening at the edges and filling in. They’ll have to stomp their snowy flattened paths all over again.
Everyone else all around the world got clobbered with snow early on. We just had grey. Snow makes everything whiter and brighter and sparkly. Ooo sparkly! Add that to the bright blue sky days, sunshine-filled with freezing temps we’ve had lately and that’s just about the perfect winter weather for me. Sun and snow, who could ask for anything more?
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Inside Joke at Work, Just For My Own Remembrance
Kristian sent me an email, groaning a bit about the awful DVD project he’s working on (one that I very joyfully gave up to him when he was hired), telling me that he had changed his name to Sisyphus. And he had actually changed his email signature to sisyphus@axis.com; I laughed like a maniac. He and I are both struggling with monster projects and too much to do at the moment. I replied that I knew how he felt, as I was resembling Prometheus more and more everyday. The rock I’m chained to being the Technical Guide localizations and the damn eagle that is pecking out my liver every day is the Marcom-Helpdesk that he and I handle (all the million marketing tasks that flood in every day from our subs, and which I’ve been trying to be front line on this week so that he could get somewhere on his project). So now he’s signing off on emails to me as SiSS and I’m signing off on mine to him as PRO. Hee!
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The kids spent last night at farmor & farfar’s and tonight, too, and spent the whole day today out sledding (see above: snow). But this evening Karin called me up with a trembly voice to say that she’d just thrown up. After initial sympathizing and confirmation that she didn’t want me to come pick her up and that she didn’t think she was going to hurl again, I asked her, with a note of trepidation, where? “In the living room,” she replied, sounding very guilty. “Oh, honey!” I exclaimed, “Couldn’t you have made it to the toilet?” No, she told me. “My mouth just exploded.”
Poor unlucky farmor was cleaning up the mess, though apparently it wasn’t that much, but STILL. I’m simultaneously feeling very guilty that I’m so glad I’M not having to clean up vomit and incredibly sorry for farmor. Though, she WAS a nurse, so maybe it doesn’t bother her as much as it bothers me.
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There was more, but I’m stopping now and taking myself off to bed with a book that I suspect I’ve read before a million years ago (niggling familiar feelings) and am not enjoying all that much now. However, it’s for book group and it’s not quite (yet) reached the point of awfulness at which I will actually stop and put it in the giveaway bag without finishing it. I keep thinking SOMETHING’S got to happen soon, and the jacket blurb backs me up: someone’s gonna kick the bucket and I’m greedily hoping it’s ALL of these oblivious, self-centered, vapid women or their stuffed-shirt, insufferable, chauvinist men, though I know only one of the characters, sadly, will actually get the ax.
Sometimes when you are reading a book and a character dies, there is an actual jolt of complete horror and disbelief and then anger at the author for daring to do such a thing: how could they??! But in this book there is no one I wouldn’t be rather pleased to see knocked off. I’m feeling very bloodthirsty, apparently, and since I can’t kill anyone at work, aggravating fictional characters will have to do. DIE! DIE!