overheard at Z's office
Oct. 6th, 2005 09:30 amart director: "Man, I really want to go to the Kanye West concert, but I'm busy that day."
z: "Why, what are you doing?"
a.d.: "Giving birth."
_____________
I'm at Z's office trying to get the article knocked together before I depart for work. I actually have sore muscles from all the running around I did this 'weekend', which is a particularly unpleasant way to begin a week that will entail 40 hours of getting my ass kicked. Don't forget it's Canadian Thanksgiving, which means the employee parking lot is closed and we will be inundated with extremely polite assholes who don't fucking tip. This public service announcement was brought to you by my crushing feeling of poverty. Thanks, y'all.
Also, Shirley, who jumped out of the jump-out-proof bowl, is not doing well this morning. She doesn't seem to be able to swim, and is gasping for air. I put her into a tiny little cup to make it easier for her to breathe, and she gasped at the surface, but sank to the bottom and appears immobile. Oddly her skin does not seem to be in a poor state, unlike last time she was exposed to air. I can only assume that she's injured, and it's just getting worse. Well, either she lives or doesn't: there's nothing I can do, and I'm not going to destroy myself with guilt over it. It was perfectly reasonable of me to assume she couldn't jump out of a hurricane glass with a full six inches of tapered glass between the water surface and the top of the bowl.
_____________
(The art director is scheduled for a C-section, for fetal health reasons, apparently on the day of the Kanye West concert.)
z: "Why, what are you doing?"
a.d.: "Giving birth."
_____________
I'm at Z's office trying to get the article knocked together before I depart for work. I actually have sore muscles from all the running around I did this 'weekend', which is a particularly unpleasant way to begin a week that will entail 40 hours of getting my ass kicked. Don't forget it's Canadian Thanksgiving, which means the employee parking lot is closed and we will be inundated with extremely polite assholes who don't fucking tip. This public service announcement was brought to you by my crushing feeling of poverty. Thanks, y'all.
Also, Shirley, who jumped out of the jump-out-proof bowl, is not doing well this morning. She doesn't seem to be able to swim, and is gasping for air. I put her into a tiny little cup to make it easier for her to breathe, and she gasped at the surface, but sank to the bottom and appears immobile. Oddly her skin does not seem to be in a poor state, unlike last time she was exposed to air. I can only assume that she's injured, and it's just getting worse. Well, either she lives or doesn't: there's nothing I can do, and I'm not going to destroy myself with guilt over it. It was perfectly reasonable of me to assume she couldn't jump out of a hurricane glass with a full six inches of tapered glass between the water surface and the top of the bowl.
_____________
(The art director is scheduled for a C-section, for fetal health reasons, apparently on the day of the Kanye West concert.)