No matter where I work...

... it's always about ten degrees below what I would consider comfortable. I've had four jobs now that have required me to sit and stare at a screen for long periods of time and everywhere I've been, there comes a moment when I realize that I'm about a sweater away from frostbite.

Granted, I work in Seattle now and it's far colder in the winter time than in San Francisco but seriously, folks- hasn't anyone heard of this great invention called air conditioning?

I looked it up (um, after hours, of course) and even the fucking Romans had air conditioning. It baffles me that management thinks 50 degress is the optimal working temperature for people who sit still.... and don't move... except to type.

If I can barely feel my fingers as I type this entry- and I'm rocking thick tights, a sweater and a scarf - then it's too fucking cold. If the tip of my nose can cut steel and my breath comes out in puffs of smoke - then it's too fucking cold.

If the fucking animal cast of March of the Penguins is filming in the cube next to me and my secret stash of vodka is frozen in my drawer... I think you know where I'm going with this.

Eff it. I'm setting my action item list on fire for warmth.

-Signing off in Seattle (Antarctica)

Big Pussy

My client has these two nagging qualities that make working with him, um, somewhat difficult. These qualities are MIA-ness and being a Big Pussy (as we affectionately call him).

My frustration can succinctly be summed up in this haiku.

Where art thou BP?
Swimming with the jellyfish
Shirking all duties

- Signing off from San Francisco

I am LAME

And here is why:

1) I started my work day - in the office - at 6:30 a.m. PT.

2) I patiently waited on a conference line for 5...10...15 minutes as my client stood me and everyone else whose time he wanted to waste.

3) Only to promptly get on another conference call at 7 a.m. PT, sharp.

4) I lead 2 teams, yet had to do a weekly coverage search, which directly leads to the last reason why I am lame...

5) Note the day: Friday. Note the current time: 8:37 p.m. PT. Note my location: still in the mother fucking office.

Peace, dudes. I am done being lame.

-Signing off from San Francisco