Ok. This will be, of necessity, short. I'm in the middle of packing up my desk, and I thought I'd take a short brain break.
I'll pause while my two fans digest that last sentence.
Yep, that's right. Packing up my desk. I've finally quit this job.
Or maybe I've been fired.
Or maybe they're painting the building, and the office needs to be cleared.
Probably the last one.
Ok, yeah, really the last one.
The entire building is being repainted, and they've decided to start with the behind-the-scenes stuff. Part of which, as you've now gathered, includes the office I share with Wheat. All of my artwork (well, not my artwork. I had the staff decorate one of my walls with fingerpaintings. Seriously. It was fun) has been taken down, I have no calendar, I have no assorted crap under the desk, I have lots of assorted crap on TOP of the desk... and I hate it.
I just don't really do well with disorder, you know?
I know, I know. Huge surprise coming from a known olf.
Ah well. The good news is that it's giving me a chance to get rid of some accumulated garbage. The bad news is that next week I'll have to put all the non-garbage back. More chaos.
Kind of makes me wish that I was still stuck in my apartment (incidentally, Alberta weather is living up to its usual weirdness. Three days ago I wouldn't have been able to go outside without a full-on skidoo suit. Today I wondered why I wore a coat), except that being stuck in my apartment would have meant that someone else would have packed my stuff.
And that would have been far more anxiety-inducing than having to pack it myself.
Speaking of which, I should get back to the mess.
Yay?
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