such a sweet, sweet week

natasha, my idiot 'boss,' is, like, thirteen months pregnant. this is her last week, as she's about ready to drop little boris yesterday. and this last week needs to end asap... email first thing this morning: 'you both have 26 december off. you both cannot. make choice and let me know.' 'you approved it last month and i'll be in denver.' 'my husband and i are hosting his sister and her family.' 'fine. make sure pro-yects covered when left for holiday.'

oh. ok. gotcha, natasha, will do.

dumbass. if i sent out anymore resumes, i'd accidently send one to the big brother h. r. department.

---

my apartment is like africa: 200 degrees, and i've got windows open. NOT COMPLAINING, don't get me wrong, loving that it's so functional in here... heat AND hot water, oh the opulence, but it's almost 60 degrees outside. what?