We close on Thursday, so that alone is going to be an ordeal as wife, Possum, and I spend hours in the car getting the cashier’s check and then signing all the documents. After that, eesh. Gotta plant some trees, find a builder, talk to the engineered septic guy, find a guy to lease some acreage for hay planting, make some plans, get a building loan, consider borrowing from my 401k since the market’s sure to tank next year anyhow, get the landscaping in shape here, get the house and barn and fencing built and the well dug, sell this house, move 2 horses and 2 dogs and 13 chickens and 3 cats and a house full of stuff, and keep my awesome job going long enough to pay for all of that.
Next year at this time, hopefully, it will all be okay, but right now I feel like I’m going in for major corrective surgery or something.
Yep, it’s already Monday. I got absolutely nothing done over the weekend because I was on dad duty, and she’s really not at the point where I can rely on her to stay nearby while I do most yard work, nearly all of which is dangerous or excessively dirty anyhow. It was also much too hot to do much outside, and she wasn’t napping well for me. I think I watched 27 episodes of Dora.
It’s going to be pretty warm here today (21F) but thankfully not so warm that the pond will melt, so I’m planning to do some limbing of my fallen pines with a bow saw while the ice is good and firm. On the down side, I saw an opossum in the barn last night and had to set the trap. If I catch it, I’ll either have to chop a hole to drown it, try to kill it with truck exhaust, hatchet the poor thing, or shoot it. I don’t really want to clean up the hatchet or the gun, so I may try exhaust. No, I will not use the flamethrower.
Oh, and I have to put in something like 10-12 hours at work (all paid, at least). How’s your day ahead look?
This seems a little risque, how’d it get into the binders?
Statistically, millions of Americans are going to just barely work this week while still pretending that they aren’t just looking busy until Friday. Don’t be like them, be the outlier that actually gets a lot done this week so you can start off the new year well ahead of the game, you’ll be glad you did.
NOTE: SECRET SANTA gift opening will be Tuesday, 12-20, at 7pm EST.
Have you seen the first dude lately? He looks like he hasn’t had a decent meal in ten years or that his alleged syphilis is finally winning the war on women. I kid, I kid. He’s a vegan so you know he has syphilis.
So here’s the theory, in case you missed it in my survey class taught at Muppet U, or if you forgot what was written in the first paragraph: Bill will do anything to prevent Smiley McOpenmouth from getting in the oval office. Way too important to keep his little Gore wet. Yes, for those of you scoring at home, he calls his blank shooter Al Gore.
I bet you’re thinking I’m totally wrong. That the allure of being half of the first ever male/female presidential couple is just too, er, alluring. Consider this: whenever things get good for her, he trots out some sorry statement that even he, a veritable Da Vinci of lying can’t clean up.
Man, that’s gonna sting. Don’t get me wrong, no one cares what he said…except for the only man that might actually make a difference in the election: Golfy McOkieDoke. St Trayvon’s Dad is notoriously thin skinned and its well known that Obama and Bill already hate each other. Bill once told Obama that he should be getting him coffee rather than schlonging his wife (that’s Web Hubble’s job) and Obama’s black half never got over it. If you locked these two in a bedroom closet only one would emerge–probably Bill with panties on his head, wearing high heels, but that’s besides the point. The hate is real my groovy babies, the hate is real.
Not of MMM, mind you, but of my time in this weird job. There are some parts of it I’m definitely going to miss (like my coworkers, and being able to kinda sorta talk about my job and having people be interested in it), and some parts I really won’t miss (like commuting past the airport, not having my kitchen right there for lunches, not having my gym nearby). Friday (or possibly earlier, depends on when we determine that I’ve sufficiently brain-dumped to coworkers and management) will be my last day in the industry. I am definitely going to miss the people. They are generally great to work with even if we couldn’t talk about much else, and to a person they really want to solve the problem. It’s been really nice to be part of a team that is focused, competent, and positive. If things don’t work out with the new gig, they have said they’d have me back. I don’t know that I’ll take them up on that, but I wouldn’t feel awful doing so. Even if it’s “just a a job”, it really isn’t a bad one, I just think I’ve found a better one for me.
I got squash for days. Days. And about a hundred green tomatoes just about to go red on the vine. Phone screen this afternoon that I really, really don’t want to screw up. I don’t have any reason to think that I will, but after bombing the last interview my confidence is a little less than rock-solid. I’ll have to be sure to do some prep beforehand. Maybe listen to this a few times. Or possibly to this. And almost certainly to this and this (hey, I like that one, it ain’t about you).
And I should probably review some cybersecurity basics and architectural design patterns. Even if he doesn’t ask, the practice will help my confidence.
