Wednesday, August 23, 2006

"60% chance of rain" is a cruel hoax.

I work 4 miles from home. I drove home in a deluge of rain, and majorly flooded streets, and the usual asshats in Sturdy, All Wheel Drive Vehicles driving NINETEEN miles an hour because it was RAINING and they were SCARED. A mile away from my house, the streets were seriously flooded. A half a mile away, the streets were very wet. At the entrance to my neighborhood they were damp. Inside my neighborhood? Bone dry. Yet I could look across the lake and see that it was pouring like hell about a quarter mile west of us. Rain to the east, rain to the west, we are a desert. This has happened every day for the last week, and I am over it.

If I'm lucky, the computer armoire will be leaving shortly. I remembered an upscale downtown consignment shop that might be able to offload it. This isn't one of those "assembled from a box" functional pieces of furniture, it's a massive actual-cherry not-veneer real piece of grownup furniture with its own power supply and halogen lighting and nooks and crannies for all sorts of things. I know it sounds crazy to get rid of something that "nice," but it is not me. It was good for my husband because he organized all of his work stuff in it, and he had the kind of organized mind that can do that. I tried to use it, but nooks and crannies and I are not compatible.

I need to keep my shit in plain sight, or I will lose it. I put my computer into the cabinet a while back and within a month or two moved it back to my desk, because I realized that I had formed a black hole of clutter, and bills and other important things were disappearing into the crannies "to be dealt with later." Or never. So I put my computer back on the Pottery Barn desk with clutter and cat hair, and stored yarn in the gorgeous cherry armoire. But this is not an efficient use of that living room floor space, and I want my desk to sit (hopefully a bit cleaner since it will be in the living room) where the armoire is now.

I am not a neat desk person. I am a messy desk person, because if it is important and I am working on it, I want to SEE it every damn day, so it doesn't fall from my mental radar screen, which lately is controlled by menopausal gerbils on meth.

So this weekend I will email photos of the cabinet and details about its pedigree to this consignment shop and pray that it is worthy, and that they have men with strong backs to come collect it. They do have a truck. This is a very important consideration for me in placement of this object, because the fucking thing is the size of a queen-sized bed standing on end, but much, much heavier. I can't exactly put it on the driveway for a garage sale. I can't even move it to get the cat hair from behind it.

Work World: I had to draft something serious and contractish today. I haven't been asked to write anything like that in years. My new boss is a very smart, very particular (engineer - 'nuff said) type who isn't shy about tearing something apart if he doesn't like it. He gave me an overview of the deal points, and I sat down and banged out a first draft of the agreement from scratch, in about an hour including editing, and sent it to him. (LegalstuffCrafters - your document in about an hour.) It was the first time he'd asked me to write anything for him, and I have no pride of ownership - I expect it to take time before I can channel his style, so I expected comments and edits.

He said it was perfect on the first try, and it was the first time he could remember not having to make any changes to a document. My cohort R told me later that he praised me to the company president. So I'm glad I can still write "professional." I'm sharing it here as evidence that I actually do know how to use that grammar stuff and all them punctuating thangs to glue ideas together coherently, but only when I'm getting paid to do it. You people are out of luck - you get to hear how I really talk.

Knitting: I'm obsessed with the Softball Cotton baby blanket at the moment. Softball Cotton is the best stuff ever for baby items, because it is truly soft and fluffy and totally suitable for contact with a baby's skin, and machine washable, too, so it's totally suitable for contact with other baby things. I'm making a feather and fan blankie in girly pink, because feather and fan and cotton candy pink work so well together. Photos this weekend, after I have made more progress. I can pretty much guarantee it won't be raining.


carlarey said...

Big ups on writing for the boss. Feels great to nail something on the first try, doesn't it? Leave those cupcakes flailing in your wake.

Catherine said...

The cupcakes are drowning in the gentle waves right now. It keeps getting deeper, and they aren't catching on and swimming harder. Bitching louder about how busy and stressed you are is not going to cut it. The new boss is a nice guy, but with high standards, it's produce or die. I'm just glad I survived the first test, there will be others. But it's not a competition, our jobs do not overlap at all. They see it as one, but perception isn't reality.

Geogrrl said...

"menopausal gerbils on meth"

That one made me snort. It's right up there with one I learned from A. Bourdain, talking about writer's block:

"I gaped at my computer screen like a stunned trout."

I don't know about all that grammar stuff, but you rite reel good.

caroline said...

yay, girl! nice to be appreciated, eh? and I almost choked at your PERFECT rendition of panicked Yukon and Lincoln Fornicator drivers in the rain. wouldn't ya love to watch (from a safe distance) what would happen if it snowed?? heh.