This week went by in a blur. Clients stood next to my desk eyeing seven-digit numbers and looking unhappy about them. I was late an unpaid half-hour because of my environmentally responsible use of public transit, apologized to irate contractors for things I didn't do, and accidentally barged into meetings I didn't know I shouldn't barge into.
I touched the one bell pepper growing on my bell pepper plant and it came off in my hand. Ripe? Who knows. A roommate who shall remain nameless turned two of my basil plants into lifeless sticks by picking the leaves that won't grow back instead of the ones that will. Downstairs neighbors who shall remain nameless filled my room with pot smoke via the one window just as I was trying to go to bed. Construction on the cottage still lags; there's progress, but it's by fits and starts and mostly stops.
The weekend, however, approaches on little winged feet. There are donuts in the office, and even though I can't eat them I can still bask in the feeling of a Friday morning with donuts. The Filipino architect, the Taiwanese interior designer and the Mexican architect are talking about various breakfast foods they'd like to bring in instead; my head is filled with visions of pastries, which beat sugarplums any day.
Perhaps it's not all bad.Posted by dianna at August 20, 2004 10:01 AM