Monday, December 17, 2007

I Expected Singing And Dancing...

Out-of-town shooters. That's what I said. I remember hearing myself saying, "Out-of-town shooters." You know what? You don't pay a ho to fuck you. You pay her to leave. What you pay out-of-town shooters to do? You pay them to get the hell back out of town. That's why I asked for out-of-town shooters. What'd I get? In-town shooters. Someone decided to hire in-town shooters. You know what else I got for my money? In-town police. In-town trouble. Who's got to get in the ring with me on this?

Ok, I'm not really sure why I went with that line, but it's a good line anyways, you know? Anyways, first day back at work. A few hellos, a 'your e-mail doesn't work, I'll fix it in a bit', and a coffee, and back to the grindstone. Hey diddle diddle hey, welcome back, now get to work. Oh, by the way, we rearranged the network, and we didn't respost the new files that you worked on while you were staying home with your newborn daughter and your wife recovering from major surgery, could you take care of that? Thanks.

Still, it's oddly comforting to be back. It's my desk (until we move and I get a new one), it's my computer (until we move and I get a new one), and it's my big honking warm headphones (which they will have to pry out of my cold, dead hands). I'm hoping we move in January on schedule, since we were supposed to move at the end of October, and as of yesterday the new building is still composed largely of rotting siding and new plywood. I'm sure it's nicer inside.

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