Today, in the midst of my daily cat-herding at work, I got an email from my boss alerting me that the presentation he has to give in a couple of weeks will have to be made form scratch, so things "will get a bit hectic."
"GET a bit hectic?" I said, standing at his door. "GET?" I swooped across his office and leaned over his desk. "Have you ever heard of 'terminal velocity'?"
He smiled. "I really like the way you handle stress with such humor and creativity."
"Have you broken into the homemade Polish hooch Emily brought you back from the old country? Because I might need some soon."
I took a lunch today with J-- a girl who works two floors down. Going out with J- is an interesting phenomenon. She looks like Natalie Portman, and whenever I'm out with her I undergo the Klingon Cloaking Device effect: all that men register of me is some vague displacement of the atmosphere somewhere to J-'s side.
J recently broke up with her boyfriend and immediately took up with a new admirer, much to the chagrin of a longtime hanger-on who'd been hoping for a shot. (I once illustrated J's dating life to her using a box of Kleenex: "Oh, I think I'm done with this one...oh, look! Another one is waiting! OK, I'm done..wait! Here's another one popped up!")
She is actually a very nice girl and I like her a lot.
We ate outside today on the lawn (our building is the only building in The Loop to have its own lawn. Don't know whether that makes me feel lucky or sad.) One of the HR people walked by. Perversely, our two HR associates, the ones who interact with employees, never smile, unless they're introducing new employees, and then it's painful to see them try to master this thing that's so foreign to them. It comes out as a sort of grimace.
We watched the guy walk by, deadpan-faced.
"I vote him Most Likely to Come to the Office With a Semi-automatic," I said.
Although it was a bit of a relief to have us BOTH be invisible for a change.