yet another entry called … ugh

This is the longest week. Long days of appointments this week up in Cumming mean more fun with the road construction on 400 every day. I think the directions to this office were… go up 400 until you don’t see anything interesting, then exit there… or so it seems. I hear there’s a lake around there someplace. Not that I have time to do anything but look for obscure roads to make turns to find some customer’s office.

I may just get antsy spending the day too far away from “town”… or so an agent remarked to me today. I bet you breathe a nice sigh of relief when you get back in the sight of tall buildings again at the end of the day, she told me, after finding out I drove in daily from Dunwoody. When she found out David drove in from Marietta, she just said, sorry.

This office is even more fun than the last few. Signs for their upcoming company “Booze Cruise” are all over the place, the breakroom had a big box of wine in the fridge, and there are signs everywhere warning that the office is on a septic system, so don’t try to put anything down the drains! I’ve already been amazed at the signs in most offices warning Do not touch this thermostat or the unit may freeze up again! Now, as if real estate agents were like children, this office has to remind them to leave the strainer in the sink drain, not to flush feminine products, wash their own dishes or the dishes left in the sink will just be thrown out…. etc.

Maybe they are like children. Little naive children, who all wear gold jewelry because it’s shiny and drive hummers with their picture on the side so they can remember which one is theirs, and who have to be told not to put their fingers in the socket again or else they’ll be sent to bed without their booze again.

But I ramble.

Today I came home with a stress-headache from hell from dealing with an agent whom I’m not sure whether would be best described as the bizarro-me or as my kryptonite, or perhaps a bit of both. His aesthetic sense was completely opposite of mine, and finding a compromise of what I was willing to actually “produce” graphically and what he wanted graphically was literally painful. It was the most frustrating appointment I’ve ever had to get through, running 45 minutes over time since he was the last of the day, every decision was a near argument, and his questions continued to baffle me by the fact that I repeatedly had just gotten done explaining the very thing he would next ask about. I went into a bit of detail about this to JamesT in a vent when he got home, and he shortly cut me off saying, Stop it, you’re making me want to hit somebody.

I am, though, at this moment actually up to date on my work. No one is waiting on anything from me. My reward for spending the extra time catching up tonight was to be greeted by a late night email asking if they could add on a fourth appointment tomorrow. Joyous.

Friday, though, we carve pumpkins. Saturday, we celebrate Maggie’s final days as a bachelorette. Monday, I celebrate my birthday with some relaxing pottery painting. Next Friday, my actual birthday, Maggie has arranged a gathering of people to go to dinner with me, much to my delight, at a location I have been wanting to try. And next Saturday, at long last, we board a plane for Bermuda. It could not get here soon enough. The thought of it may be the only thing keeping me going right now.

At this moment, I am tired, and can think only of the possibility of soaking in a hot bubbly bath and listening to the final chapters of Christopher Priest’s The Prestige, a 12-hour audiobook that I really didn’t think I would finish before the movie comes out this Friday. It has been the one good thing about the long time spent travelling for work this week.