"I may be a wage slave on Monday, but I'll be a free [wo]man on Sunday." -- Manchester Rambler, by Ewan MacColl
Yes, I'm looking
forward to the weekend already. I need to enjoy these next few quiet weekends,
because after that we get into regatta season and from there straight to holiday
season. Maybe we can go rock climbing, since the weather's been bee-YOO-ti-fully
cool lately. (Yesterday, it didn't even break 80! They're predicting it will go
back to 90 soon, though.)
That's for day after tomorrow. Today's
poem is much shorter: Payday, yay!! Another thing I'll miss when I become a real
employee instead of a contractor is weekly paychecks, instead of biweekly. That's
less than a month away now., and I'm scrambling to get everything done before
then. Somehow I have a feeling that my hope that things will be less busy then is
pure wishful thinking.
Since things have cooled down here, I have
been downright bubbly. Verging on giddy, even. Though apparently still not enough
to please the guy in the office who keeps telling me to smile. (Why would I be
smiling when I go to ask my boss how we'll handle getting a job finished that was
last worked on two years ago by someone who's now in another department,
anyway?)
Speaking of smiling, am I on target with my impression that
people who sprinkle LOLs and (smile)s randomly through emails are the same people
who giggle annoyingly and meaninglessly at the end of every sentence they
speak?