On a Sunday afternoon, my office building is filled with lawyer-dads in cargo shorts and baseball caps, filling the elevators with lawyer talk, something about blah blah weather is so nice out and they are blah blah subpoena blah? I don’t really know. I do know that I am at work, mostly to avoid PULLIN AN ALL-NITER-WOOOO tomorrow, the day before another big travel/meeting/thing. Apparently, my job only really occurs april-june, and the rest of the year I can lay by the pool and eat Ho Hos.
They also turn he AC off on the weekends. My office is top-floor, so right now the part-time co-ed secretary and I are considering stripping to our skivvies. It is, no shit, 89 degrees up in here. GIRLS DONE GONE WILD COPY MACHINE FAXIN’ STYLE WOOO!
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I played a very short game of softball yesterday, then got all my hair cut off even more. Very, very short. Very blonde. I am a ten-year old boy now, towheaded from a summer of playing made-up games in the neighbors yard.
I also saw the Cezanne exhibit yesterday, in the nick of time. It was very pastel and crowded. Then we started eating, starting with guac and margaritas, moving onto cheese fries at the Saloon as the group grew. We picked up peeps here and there, (the Pied Pipers of DC!) making a nice cozy table of talk by the nights end. Also, we were contemplating the total annhilation of the Potato Trifecta - Pilar Tots, Ben’s cheese fries, and Saloon Tato-skins. It didn’t happen, but soon. I mean it.
OH. And go read this article. Tom’s already mentioned it; the N. and I also had a brief conversation regarding this business this weekend, but I have a lot more thinking to do on mining robots.
Last but not least, the N. spent a good chunk of this weekend sanding and glueing a birdhouse for not-bird-sheltering activities. Report to follow tomorrow. And maybe pics.