Except for those French Bureaucratic Asshats. Them they are NOT OK... But dialing down the crazy over here, yes I am taking it down a notch. I will survive (even though my life seems to be a musical about what all is going wrong right now :)
No more worries, no more bitching or at least not for today. Boss is a definite keeper. He left me alone for most of the afternoon and then made me laugh by sticking his head in my office at the end of the day saying “umm is it safe for me to come in.” Doesn’t sound funny when typing it, but to have a BIG TALL Lebanese man act like he is truly frightened of you, well it made me giggle. We will talk and start the “deal with this” segment of life later this week when I am not so raw or under pressure packed deadlines.
Then he and other coworkers made sure that when out for drinks I had Kir Royales not plain Kirs as normal for my apéro, and then paid for them. And at dinner they made sure every time I took a sip of my wine that the glass got refilled. Needless to say I got enough alcohol in me to loosen even my “wound tighter than a 48 hour clock” ass up a bit. Then we all went dancing Friday night so that I could to forget the fucking French jackholes and their god damn hoops of fire. (yes I know calling them names does not win me karma kitty points, but I am still raw)
To add to mission dial downward, the weekend was gorgeous. I managed to get most of my errands done, and then got cheesy bread. Cheese can cure just about everything- had your leg amputated, here have some camembert; kidney stopped functioning, have a wheel of gouda. Feeling like shit thanks to French préfecture twats- have a hunk of parmegianno regianno to go with that pasta and some cheesy bread and you will feel better.
My favorite scruffy Italian was in town and we hung out, had Italian night (where in the English was not spoken and my brain just about imploded on itself again) and walked the Festival of Lights night, that helped immensely. Sunday I did nothing but lay in bed and re-read Pride and Prejudice. I spent too much time on my feet in heels the night before, therefore I laid down with the sun shining it put my feet up and pointed the fan straight at me.
Call it soul healing for the battered and bruised. And for the record- THANK YOU for all the nice comments and good wishes. Even better last night I finally picked up the knitting again. I don’t know if I was too stressed or what but I didn’t want to touch anything. It was very odd- but last night there was a break through I picked up my trekking XXL sock. I turned the heel and picked up the gusset. And now I can start looking for patterns and yarns to make my Sockapalooza pal’s socks! I think I need to get some of the past couple of IK issues sock patterns (go with the flow and retro rib come to mind) cause I have been loving them!
Posted by Stinkerbell at June 20, 2005 11:40 AM | TrackBack