I have a whiteboard right outside my office. I write silly questions there for people to answer, and it’s a place where people can leave me notes. Or, in the case of my boss, draw pictures.
another crappy picture, courtesy of my cell phone. that’ll teach me to forget my camera at work.
Look! It’s the closet in the office! And it’s empty!
We actually made some pretty decent progress packing today. More to come…
also, I must apologize for the poor quality of this picture. I left my camera at work yesterday, and won’t have it back until Tuesday, so I’ve been using my cell phone’s camera.
A bunch of us went out to dinner tonight at a Korean place in Westboro. It’s one of those places that has the grill in the middle of the table, only for some strange reason, our server did the cooking for us. Usually, you get to do it yourself. I wonder if they had some problem where someone ate undercooked pork or set themselves on fire or something. The food was still tasty, though.
Yeah, it’s suppertime.
Oh, it’s sup-sup suppertime very best time of day.
Yeah, it’s sup-per time.
And when suppertime comes can supper be far away?
Bring on the soup dish, bring on the cup,
Bring on the bacon and fill me up.
‘Cause it’s supper
Supper, supper, suppertime!”
can’t say I didn’t warn you.
Don’t know why I was looking at the ground again today. Anyway, spotted this little arrangement:
If this were a Stephen King story, this symbol would pop up all over the place and have some strange sinister meaning. As it is, it’s probably a standard surveying sign or something equally pedestrian.
I was walking along Charles St today when this red patch of light on the ground caught my eye. It’s from one of those emergency light posts you see in the city.
I had to have some blood drawn yesterday. No big deal. As usual, when they were done they taped a bit of gauze over the spot.
And then last night (because I’m a big baby), I asked Doug to take the bandage off for me, and do it quick. Which he did. Only the %&$* tape took a patch of my skin with it!
See? the spot on the right is the bruise from the needle, to be expected. The red area on the left is where my skin used to be. And that’s just not right.
I don’t mind folding laundry. I think it has to do with the idea of starting with something messy or dirty, and ending with something neat and clean. I don’t mind washing dishes either. Doug hates folding laundry, but it works out OK–I hate emptying the dishwasher.
this is what Sundays are for: sitting on the porch, reading a book, and hanging out with Parker.
Not a bad way for Doug to spend the afternoon.