Good morning, world. Bite me.

Yes, bite me.

It’s Monday and already I’m hearing Marc making excuses about how he knows he sent work over to “the graphics person”, but it just hasn’t been done yet. Although I am nearly a whole hour late due to my overzealous snoozing and my changing clothes five times before I walked out the door. It’s supposed to be 68 here again today, yet we’re on “pseudo-dressy” mode for three days… and I couldn’t find a damn thing piece of my wardrobe that didn’t make me feel like I’d melt by the end of the day. Couldn’t even stand to wear the boots today, so I have on the annoying “wooden shoes” that cause me to CLACK CLACK CLACK quite loudly around the office. I can just imagine it.. like the emergency broadcast system sound, I announce every trip to the bathroom or to get more coffee. CLACK CLACK CLACK Attention, co-workers, this sound means Kim is NOT at her desk working.. CLACK CLACK CLACK…

What a horribly depressing weekend, despite it’s good points. Even though I missed the window to tell the posse girlz at Justin’s party about what the little girls said about us (and I mean little, the older one looked about seven and she was helping the little bitty one up the stairwell — do we remember those little girls? And the little boy who climbed under the railing to jump off the incredible height of the third step?) Anyway… apparently they needed assistance getting a door open further up the stairwell, and as I was standing closest to them as they were coming down, I heard them scanning the adults gathered at the bottom of the stairwell for a familiar face to help them. They didn’t apparently see one, so the seven year old remarked that maybe one of these older ladies would help them. Lucky for us older ladies, however, that other guy walked out that they knew, so they starting yelling for him by name.

I think I’ll leave out discussing the unusualness of visiting Justin’s loft to find it neatly decorated and full of baby stuff/family type/and as many kids as adults. That’s a story someone who knows him MUCH better needs to relate. I did manage to spot some familiar faces, though, which was cool. Even the fiancee, it seems, I’d already met twice. Silly me didn’t even think about running into Andrew there, but I guess he knows Justin, too. I dunno if I said anything here before how things keep happening to illustrate what a small world it is… like this Justin being the same Justin that Jimmy used to work with ages ago in Chattanooga, and whom I always heard stories about. And now, he turns up in Atlanta, friends with new folks that I also know. Well, at the party, Andrew mentioned that he played frisbee with Bobby Shepherd from work. Small world, again. We didn’t stay too late, though, as the strong peach-frozen-margaritas and the strange cheese (from El Azteca downtown) wasn’t sitting well with me. Stacy was fighting an all day headache (don’t I know the feeling) so we called it a night probably by eleven. Pity it took me 40 minutes in traffic to get from Skittle’s place to the interstate (accident RIGHT in the middle of the intersection), too much traffic, no place to go, had to just sit there and wait for the firetruck and cops to do their things, until eventually the cars were moved over into a parking lot and traffic could flow.

Anyway.. finishing this post has taken all fucking morning. Typical. Too many things to do, and it irks me to pause in mid-therapeutic-journal-rant to answer retarded questions about things that are “hypothetical,” which actually means that as soon as I say yes, I can do that, then I have until the guy can sit down and write up the rework to enjoy my “free time” before the hypothetical task is assigned.

Oh well.. what else. Enjoyed the weather with an attempt at soccer Saturday… was definitely a high point of the weekend, as was hanging out afterwards for a bit and getting to play foosball at Paul’s. WANTED to enjoy the weather Sunday, but just could not get out of funk-mode. Freaking sinus headache all day and can’t find my sunglasses, so going outside was making me squint and hurt… but did manage a decent lunch out and a showing of The Recruit which was good, if a bit predictable, for a PG-13 movie. We almost didn’t go for the rating alone.

And last but not least meandering thought… wondering on the way in to work this morning how far my tax refund will go toward some money down on a motorcycle. =) Damn, I really really want one. JT went for a short ride yesterday that lifted his Sunday funk mood, and I just kept thinking… I need that. I think the depressing part of this weekend was more than just the “out of the mouths of babes” comment at Justin’s party, but also all the talk to various chicks there about their proposals, engagement’s and wedding plans. I’m just getting sick of hearing about wedding stuff from every side, and baby stuff, too, now that you mention it. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE Angle getting married and doing the big do, but I’m sick of people I barely know giving me grief about it.

Anyway.. end rant. Now to get out of lunch with the guys.