Pettiness

Mid-morning, the receptionist came around to say that A had been invited to lunch by the chief consultant guy, and the chief consultant guy had decided to turn it into a pizza party, who wanted in? She described A as our "former office manager." Said everyone really liked him. Not quite. A was the dude sent by corporate to manage the post-takeover integration. By the time I got there, he was mostly making busywork for his assistant. The assistant left; he made petty, time-wasting busywork for himself out of me and my coworkers. There were a few things he might have done to improve how corporate was treating us, but he was way too busy with his busywork... They ended up firing him four years ago.

On the "always postpone meetings with time-wasting morons" principle, I said no, thanks on the pizza.


Today's earrings: cups, theobromine molecules

Bedtime reading: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams

More events

I dropped off the paperwork for the apartment. [Begin now an extended period of thumb-twiddling.]

And! my boss tells me that Rick is going to propose to Mindy tomorrow. Again.


Today's earrings: flies, amber

Bedtime reading: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams

Filled with incident

I got a call this morning from the realtor dude in charge of that apartment I fell in love with. The person who got their ap in first has failed to secure financing. Am I still interested in buying the place? AND HOW! I replied. Oh, good, he said, and asked me to bring him a current set of documents. He'll pass it to the city, they'll vet my paperwork, and (hopefully) they'll approve me again. Then we go to his pet loan officer, and (hopefully) she'll approve me for a loan. And then (hopefully) I get to go live in the apartment I fell in love with.

About an hour after that, my boss presented me with my 5-Year Tchotchke: a nice desk clock discreetly emblazoned with the corporate logo. Now that I've gotten my tchotchke home, I find that there's no apparent way to adjust the time. Hm.

My boss also shared the sad news that Alan Spaulding died yesterday at the Chamberlain-Lewis wedding reception. Mr. Spaulding died of complications following a bone-marrow donation to his adopted son, for whom he was a suspiciously close match [insert tawdry speculation about Jackie Marler here]. Mr. Spaulding is survived by his sisters Alexandra and Amanda, his son Alan-Michael and his daughter Peyton, his adopted son Philip, his nephew Nick and his niece Vicky, five grandchilden, one great-grandchild, and (apparently) six of his former wives.

Today's earrings: amethysts

Bedtime reading: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams

[edited to correct the Spaulding obit]

Dali

Google has brought me new knowlege tonight.

I knew that Dali had drawn a tarot deck, based on Rider/Waite. It's available for general sale. There's also a 54-card stripped version with French suit marks printed in the corners, suitable for playing bridge or poker. (For some reason, I have two copies of the latter. Why? Why?)

I've also seen a tarot deck someone cobbled together out of details of Dali paintings. It's very pretty, but of little use for telling fortunes or for playing games.

What I hadn't known was that in 1967 Dali drew a set of court cards and aces with French suit marks. It was published in a limited run, and for some reason no one's reprinted them. Too bad; I would have liked to have a copy.

The ace of diamonds looks like this:

Today's earrings: diamonds, aces

Bedtime reading: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams

So you know.

Friday's post was my 666th.

Spooky.


Today's earrings: frogs, crows

Bedtime reading: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams