Arrrrr...

Actually, that's all you're getting for fake pirate speak today. I don't have the energy. Unless someone out there is desperate to have me call him a blackguard (blaggard in Pirate, I suppose). I could blackguard if I had to, I guess is what I'm saying.

I'm not shivering anyone's timbers, though.

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You might have gathered that yesterday wasn't an especially good day as far as the mood went. It picked up a bit as the day went on, but yesterday morning was pretty rough. There are days, folks, when I really should come with a flashing red light or something of that ilk to warn people away. You know, like a buoy. Or maybe I should just go straight for lighthouse, since at least that way I'd get my own foghorn.

It's times like those that make me grateful that Wheat understands sign language.

I should explain, shouldn't I?

Well, I'd gone in very (VERY) early to set up my morning's program, mostly as an escape from people. Don't get me wrong: I like the people I work with, but I just really wasn't in the mood to be anywhere near people first thing yesterday morning and so I went out of my way to put myself in the corner, metaphorically speaking.

I have a little bit of a temper, you see. The nice thing about knowing you have a temper, though, is that if you're smart about things you can remove yourself from a situation before it actually becomes a situation. Or at least before it becomes a worse situation.

Wheat, having got in a bit later in the morning, couldn't have known that I was secretly wearing the big FUCK OFF sign internally. Wearing it, in fact, to the point where opening my mouth to talk to anyone would have resulted in either someone getting yelled at (by me) or someone in tears (me again).

Gotta love those moments. I was the very definition of snot-in-a-knot. And for no reason, really. I just was.

Anyway, Wheat came in all Wheat-like to ask if I wanted any help and... all I did was motion him back out of the door. Oh, I believe I may have also said "no" if you were listening carefully, but mostly he got the grand Go Away.

So he did.

We have a pretty good working relationship, the two of us.

Some people (i.e. my former supervisor) would have taken it upon themselves to decide I needed to have a talk or get some things off my chest or (god forbid) put up with a moment of friendly concern for my well-being. Wheat knows that sometimes I just need to be left alone.

Wheat also knows that I'm capable of throwing things.





I throw like a girl, true, but even a girlie throw occasionally hits its mark.

In the end, I got things out of my system more or less and then came back to the office when I was ready to play nice. The end. No moral.

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The end of the story, not the end of the post. I was just wondering if anyone thinks I should start slapping the t.v. club around NOW just to be sure that they're all ready for next week. Next week, yes. Just like Christmas, the new season does come around eventually. It doesn't help that they're starting nearly a month later than last year, of course, but somehow things just seemed to get sooo draaaggy this time around.

By the way... who's bringing the wine gums?

Ah well. I've given you enough notice. You can decide it amongst yourselves.