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dchenesSome days even your lucky rocket ship underpants don't help. (OK, so I'm not actually wearing them today, because I wore them yesterday, but the sentiment holds.)
My morning has been something of a disaster. I found out what the mice have been eating, by dint of taking out the trash and discovering a hole in the bottom of the bag. I guess I have to put a trap in the bottom of the trash can.
Then I got to work and my problem child committee reared its ugly head. Suffice it to say I had to swear at the fax machine for half an hour while the meeting was going on, sending materials to one of the people who really had to be there and wasn't, because I forgot to remind him on Friday. So, that disaster dealt with, I then got myself in trouble replying to people who were asking for committee updates; apparently I shouldn't have replied myself. (But really, when my boss forwards me the request without comment, it doesn't generally occur to me to ask her before I deal with it.)
My lucky rocket ship underpants didn't help yesterday, either; I went out shoe shopping and discovered that wide feet have gone right out of style. I tried the DSW downtown and every single style they had were medium at most, which won't work. Then I tried the expensive shoe store in Coolidge Corner and all they had in wides were size 8, which were too big. Apparently this season thou shalt not be short, and have hips, and have wide feet in half sizes.
Saturday was lovely, though. I got caught up on my sleep and took myself out for coffee in Coolidge Corner and read the only No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency novel I hadn't read yet. It was a very laid-back day, and I needed one.
My morning has been something of a disaster. I found out what the mice have been eating, by dint of taking out the trash and discovering a hole in the bottom of the bag. I guess I have to put a trap in the bottom of the trash can.
Then I got to work and my problem child committee reared its ugly head. Suffice it to say I had to swear at the fax machine for half an hour while the meeting was going on, sending materials to one of the people who really had to be there and wasn't, because I forgot to remind him on Friday. So, that disaster dealt with, I then got myself in trouble replying to people who were asking for committee updates; apparently I shouldn't have replied myself. (But really, when my boss forwards me the request without comment, it doesn't generally occur to me to ask her before I deal with it.)
My lucky rocket ship underpants didn't help yesterday, either; I went out shoe shopping and discovered that wide feet have gone right out of style. I tried the DSW downtown and every single style they had were medium at most, which won't work. Then I tried the expensive shoe store in Coolidge Corner and all they had in wides were size 8, which were too big. Apparently this season thou shalt not be short, and have hips, and have wide feet in half sizes.
Saturday was lovely, though. I got caught up on my sleep and took myself out for coffee in Coolidge Corner and read the only No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency novel I hadn't read yet. It was a very laid-back day, and I needed one.
