(no subject)

Good morning, Blogland!

It is Presidents Day in America today. Or possibly Presidents' Day; Americans are a little fuzzy on whether we're celebrating generalised Presidents or whether the day actually belongs to a couple of them. Actually, in Illinois, Lincoln's birthday is celebrated separately and we could give a sweet damn about Jefferson, so around these parts it's possible that it's President's Day. Though we also celebrate Casimir Pulaski Day, so we're a little weird. (Casimir Pulaski Day is coming up in March! Prepare to get your pierogis on!)

Presidents/'s/s' Day does not ping huge on my radar, since I don't get it off, but apparently everyone pretends we do get it off and takes the day off anyway. So here I am, at work, and nobody else is.

I would work on Charitable Getting, except I have to write a new scene and I can't find the hook for it yet. Instead I am dicking around on Google.

Speaking of writing and Google and myself, ( some thoughts on perception and Nameless. )

Anyway. As CG is being stubborn, I'm going to fuck off to fanfic and work on that for a while.

(no subject)

I finally decided that I was going to get the information I needed out of Coworker Fail by hook or crook, and so this morning I started sending him questions. Here is the process we went through:

Sam: *asks a series of questions*
Coworker Fail: *makes irrelevant statements*
Sam: *redirects each statement towards some kind of information gathering*
Coworker Fail: *gives half-details or sends three copies of the same document*
Sam: *keeps asking questions for seven or eight more rounds of email*

And then at the end of that I have a page of information I did not have before. This doesn't sound impressive until I tell you that I've added five pages to the Big Book today.

Though for some of this stuff I might just plain be making shit up for the next person who will do Coworker Fail's job eventually. Don't tell anyone.

At one point part of his email stated "All paperwork to do with X topic is collated and filed by [his job position]."

Which is interesting since all of the paperwork he mentioned is actually in a locked file drawer in my desk.

(no subject)

I HAVE DECIDED to take the night off. I am not going to feel guilty that I'm not writing anything, answering emails, doing Productive Things, or cleaning my flat.

I DECLARE A DEAD NIGHT. You are all welcome to join me on the sofa for pizza and classic films. We will be watching some German Expressionism followed by Doctor Who and, if we have time, Looney Tunes.