Remind me to tell you about the time I drove the 35 minutes to come in to work on a Saturday morning, only to discover that there was a server outage that no one knew about, rendering me unable to do anything aside from watch YouTube videos whilst waiting for assistance from IT, only to be ignored for an hour and a half before I finally said Fuck It and drove the now 45 minutes (traffic!) back home to a dirty kitchen and piles of laundry and half the day wasted.
OH WAIT.

Are all husbands like children?

On the phone
Me (stressed): Server was down all afternoon, so I’m working pretty late tonight. You’re on your own for dinner – we’ve got leftovers and stuff in the fridge.

J (pitifully, with eyes dilated, at the optometrist's): Oh. But I’m hungry nooooow.

Me: So go eat something. GOD.

I’ve been totally buried this week. Send a rescue dog with the little jug of liquor around his neck. Throw me a life preserver made of chocolate chip cookies (but make it water resistant and buoyant or…something.) Send me a hug and a backrub.

So my brainpower is all used up on work, and I have no juice left for you, my lovelies, but here are a few bits of pulp:

-We had dinner at my in-laws’ on Sunday, and my 17 year-old brother-in-law and my 10 year-old nephew were playing Rock Band on drums and guitar, respectively. I watched for a while, and then asked if I could play on vocals; they agreed in much the same manner that you appease your crazy aunt every time she wants to regale you with the same tired story of the time she saw Wayne Newton in concert and he kissed her ON THE MOUTH. And then. I proceeded to Rock It. We played for nearly four hours, stopping only for a few minutes to eat dinner, and then when J pointed out that No Really, You Have To Work Tomorrow. There were a few songs I didn’t know, but still: Dude. It’s like karaoke with points, plus TAMBOURINE, which makes everything better. Aaand I gave my avatar a giant bouffant, which is pretty fucking awesome, too. Dear Rock Band, I love you; let’s make out. Love, Gin

-I went out and bought the first season of Mad Men yesterday, and (for me) the special features alone are worth the cost of the box set. I forgot how visually stunning this show is. Love! Do yourself a favor and put in on your queue, rent it, buy it, WATCH IT. If you don’t like it, you can march right down here and spit in my coffee. The new season starts on Sunday July 27 on AMC – just enough time for you to get all caught up!

-One of my coworkers keeps an herb garden that is producing like crazy, and she brought in a bunch to share with us. I got some rosemary and Greek oregano, and it’s sitting here on my desk in cute little mini paper bags. It smells so good I could huff it. Is that weird?

Word, Susannah.
Word.

The downside of a long weekend is coming back to work and having everything you couldn’t muster up the energy or desire to do before you left smack you square in the face, on top of the usual Monday crap.

Sigh.

Sing it, Lilly

The last couple of weeks have been draining. Work has been long and nerve-wracking – I stumble home around 7, throw together something for dinner, have some kind of interaction with my husband somewhere in there, sit glassy-eyed and slack-jawed on the couch for a while, and fall into bed at 9:30 – wake up, still exhausted at 5:45 the next morning, lather, rinse, repeat. Words cannot describe how effing ready I am for this long weekend. My brain is crying for it. My little shriveled raisin of a soul cries out for nourishment and renewal; Here Soul, let me water you with a stress-induced crying jag, or alcohol – maybe both.

Just one more day…

I am needlessly irritable today, and am being kind of crabby to people who don’t deserve it (Sorry, C), so here’s a clip that always, always, always makes me happy.