(no subject)

I love my job, I really do, but for the last four weeks I have found myself every Friday saying "I just have to survive today..."

The worst of...everything is past, except for the Vegas trip, but it's a trip to Las Vegas with my mother, so it's not exactly going to be restful. I feel like I should take June off completely. I feel like I deserve to take June off completely. Especially since that would mean I would never have to leave the air conditioning.

But I did get the Dead Isle edits done, and so Chapter Twenty-One is posted!

(no subject)

I am 99% sure I didn't hallucinate the acrobats doing tricks on the vertical handbars of the El just now. Mainly because the person I was sitting with saw them too.

I went out with some of my colleagues tonight for our (slowly becoming a) monthly drinks, gossip, and networking session. We're all theatre folk so we talk about what we're up to and new shows and stuff -- I found out about a few calls for plays, which means more deadlines, oh god -- and also talk about the SCANDALOUS things that happen at work, like terrible fundraising visits and the firing of our VP.

And we drink!

Mind you, we showed up at 4:30 and the bar was essentially empty, and we sat through two whole social shifts at that bar; around 5:30 the "We're very rich and work in downtown Chicago and wear a lot of black" crowd came in, which is when I tweeted that I was drastically underdressed for the bar I was in, because it's casual Friday so I was in a t-shirt and jeans. The solution seemed to be "have another martini!" so I did, and all the fancy people left around 7 and a bunch of people in Casual Friday Clothing came in, so the martini totally worked.

It was a "root beer float" martini. I regret nothing.

And then one of my colleagues and I got on a train to come home, and there was a guy with a gloriously waxed handlebar mustache got on and started juggling, and his companion did acrobatic tricks using the train architecture. It was amazing.

Now I want a nap.