I've slacked. I've been slacking. I'm a slacker.
I don't really know what to tell you, other than it's been cold out; I've had a hard time getting out of bed in the morning; I'm watching season seven of The West Wing on DVD and finding it very compelling; I'm knitting; I'm generally doing solitary old-lady things that are keeping me away from this, my blog on the interwebs.
Speaking of solitary, this Friday is the big company holiday party, a very fancy dress-up event that I will be attending stag. My hope is that Todd will be put in charge of drink tickets again, and I can down enough before dinner that I won't mind being seated next to the other sad singles at the sad singles table. Also, Kristin is pregnant, and she said Brooke and I could have her tickets. It occurred to Brooke and me, too late, that we should have RSVP'd with fictitious dates so that we could have then taken their drink tickets too. I may be coming off a little preoccupied with drink tickets here, but economic conditions and the precarious state of our jobs mean that one never can tell when it is one's last chance to be a lush on the company dime, and I didn't get a raise this year; I'll be damned if I don't make it up in vodka.
God bless us, everyone.