Losers Club Tries to Fake Not Being Hung Over

So, last night I should have been being a good girl. I mean, I had it all planned. I was going to head home on the 5:45 train. Have a quiet night, maybe take a bath, enjoy a home cooked meal, read some more of the "Meditations on the Buddha Tara" - which has been very helpful with dealing with my whole CBL stress...

And then GoodBuddy called.

I resisted at first. I even got passive-aggressively bitter. Because I had been thinking happy and healthy. And then I realized that - yea, I've got no control when it comes to him and, yea, well, it was going to be a night of general debauchery.

And, so it was.

So, this morning, as I was trying my damnedest to get to work on time and not seem like I was completely puffy (more on that later) and wasted, I grabbed a cab at NorthStation to cut down on commute time.

And my damn cabbie was so eager to get me to Copley Square that he ran two red lights.

And got caught.

And got pulled over.

And got a ticket.

I was about 20 minutes late picking up my colleague who's visiting from London. And, yea, she probably noticed my bleary eyes.

Way to have a healthy, quiet, relaxing, yogafied night.

Let's Lighten the Mood

Because I'm reading his book. Because I really relate to him. Because he loves Mozza (happy belated birthday). I give you, the amazing, the prophetic, the inscrutable, the infamous, RUSSELL BRAND!

Beware the Bitter Brigade

So, it's week two of CBL's "living in Boston" deal. And she has yet to spend a full day in the office.

Yes, I know she's had trauma of the disciplinary kind. Yes, I know she's had trauma of the real estate kind. Yes, I know she's had trauma of the insurance kind.

I really don't give a fuck.

I'm sorry, but I'm really bitter right now.

She has put me and so many of my colleagues through torment with the insistence that "everything needs to be done yesterday and these eight things are priority number one." And now that she has other things going on in her life, she has been completely unreachable for SIX DAYS.

Not that I mind that I am now wholly and independenty responsible for the projects that I can actually deliver on. it just feels so hypocritical of her. We're supposed to answer our phones on nights and weekends and New Years Eve (I kid you not!) yet she's decided that she's above that. It's the double standard that's driving me crazy.

So, tonight, knowing that she won't be in the office and despite the fact that my colleague is flying in from London for the entire rest of the week, I have poured myself a cocktail. I might even pop in a little DVD action and stay up way past my bedtime. Sure, I'll regret it in the morning, but right now it feels a bit like me taking back my life.

Yeah, I know. Textbook psychotherapy reaction. Ah well.

Quitcherbitchin

OK, so as I prepare to ready myself for CBL living in Boston, I feel the need to share this bit of bitchy nitpickery.

This morning, I woke up to 20 or so emails from CBL. Seems she'd done a bunch of work on her last flight from Boulder to Boston. Plugged in her computer and synced her mails. So, yes, my Saturday morning was greeted with much work mail.

Alas, I had already known I had to do work this weekend. I have a huge event coming up in Manhattan on Wednesday and there was lots of planning I needed to take care of prior. So, today, I settled in, booted up the 'puter and did a bunch of work. Much of which - because CBL likes to be involved in ALL and sundry decisions - involved me including CBL on the To: or CC: list.

Tonight I get this email: "Let's talk about this this week when I'm in the office. I still have 150 emails to respond to. No rest for the weary, I guess. SIGH."

Now, I'm sorry. But really? I am guessing that, as a VP, she makes SIGNIFICANTLY more than I do. And didn't I already deal with HER email flurry? So why, exactly, should I sympathise with her having to deal with emails in her inbox?

I realize that I need to quit bitchin as much as she does, but right now I am sooooo ticked off.

Interesting to Think About

I've been thinking a lot about people and persons and my relations to them.

It's come to my attention that I do not have a very large group of friends. And I have a significantly smaller group of local friends. I'd like that this weren't true, but alas...

It's hard to meet people in your hometown when you're travelling a lot, working crazy hours out of town and so exhausted when you're actually home that all you can do is hit Blockbuster and pass out. Even harder when you're spending most of your free time either physically or mentally taking care of your family - especially your father - who all reside in NJ.

Still...

I say that I enjoy people. I will talk to any random person in the supermarket, in the parking lot, on the subway. I enjoy these brief interactions and generally walk away feeling good. What I can't do? Talk to the cute boy at my gym who several times has tried to chat me up. Come off confident and nonchalant while talking to people I might actually think I'd be friends with. Enjoy people in large groups. Like the damn Celtics fans invading North Station these days... Ugh. This is a very strange conundrum.

I know that I won't make any friends watching On Demand movies in my apartment. But right now that's really all I'm capable of. It's totally sad, but it's true.

So Much, So Little, So What

I have been a slacker. I haven't posted in ... ages? I honestly don't know how long. It's not like there hasn't been news to report. There's been a plethora of news. I've just been a) too tired b) too busy c) too petrified to face reality to report.

One week and one day ago, dad had a stroke. OK, technically, the stroke happened one week and TWO days ago. But it wasn't reported until last Thursday.

You never know how you're going to react to the news that you might lose or be losing someone you love Until It Happens.

Within 20 minutes I was in the car on the way to NJ. I didn't even know how much underwear I'd packed.

Viscious, heart-rending emotions aside, Dad is OK. He'll walk away from this one. Next one, not so much.

I can't stop myself from calling obsessivelly. How is everyone feeling? How did the walk on the treadmill go today? Yet I know, they're as fed up with my constant harrassment as I was with the need to be full-time nurse while I was in NJ.

Being a good daughter is a REALLY difficult job. There's no handbooks or rules guides to help you along. I can only hope and pray I'm doing the right bit...