Today I had a meeting that lasted from 915AM to 415PM. Seven hours in one room with two, sometimes three people, where we attempted to compile accurate lists of their products on their website. It was excruciating.

The worst part was that we were in a closed room—meaning the temperature did not come down from around 79 all day. And we sat virtually the entire time. So not only was I boiling, but the baby crawled his way up to my ribs and decided to stay there kicking for seven hours.

Tomorrow the final step in the basement process begins and oy, I am not looking forward to having “company” every day for two weeks. Especially considering the 90 degree temps they are forecasting. I cleaned Sunday, then did a little bit of weeding and spent all of Monday in pain—hello back and abdominal muscles. Do I need to use you all to clean? Apparently, yes.

My common suggestion to clients who have blogs is to sit down on a Sunday and crank out five for the week. One hour, I say, two at the most. It’ll be so easy. Then you just set them up to go and don’t worry about it until the next week.

My former boss, who is now my client, is notorious for never blogging. Getting her to blog is painful and an ongoing argument, but she has decided she will blog every day for 30 days, as one of her New Year’s resolutions. This I am happy about, but receiving nine blog posts on Sunday night, with the last three having numerous spelling errors and the final one missing the last half of a sentence makes me think that she did them while drinking.

Sigh.

Today my boss had me “help” her do a presentation for a conference next week.

By help I mean I finally had to move her from her chair because she was taking so damn long typing and figuring out how to copy and paste pics of websites.

I also had to convince her that no, she couldn’t talk about 3/4 what she thought she could because a) she didn’t have that much time and b) she doesn’t really know what she’s talking about when it comes to websites or email marketing. If people ask you questions, can you answer them? “Mostly,” to me, is not the best response.

The DS? Awesome.

The Zelda Phantom Hourglass game? Totally awesome. (The Chop and I are fighting over who gets to play, lol.)

Obama’s taken Iowa! Woot! He is my only hope for getting the Republicans out of office.

The writer’s strike is pissing. me. off. Just give them what they want and bring back the good TV! I like reality TV if it’s good, but we’re now at the dredges of reality TV.. the crap that got veto’d at the beginning of the season but is now back because that is ALL THEY HAVE.

So annoying.

In other news, I am less sick, the weather here is so cold I refuse to go outside and some of my company’s websites got hacked while I was on vacation, so it’s been real fun going back to work.

How’s 2008 working out for ya’ll?

Driving all the way up to work (60 miles), where it’s 5 degrees colder than at home (17), and finding out that the heat upstairs in your office area is broken is not a good way for my day to start.

That is a bad, bad thing.

Also that no one actually told the bosses. Wtf?

Fortunately the CEO had some space heaters she brought me, so I’m slowly defrosting.

However, I slipped coming down the steps outside this morning when Regina decided to bolt for a bird. I managed to stay upright, but twisted and one leg went off the porch whilst the other stayed inside, effectively doing the splits.

After much cursing, we were in the car and heading to work.

All was well until I released there seemed to be an odd draft on my thigh.

Yes. I ripped a hole in my pants.

Fuck it, I thought, I’m not turning around.

So now I am at work, in a room where it is hovering around 55 degrees, with a hole in my pants.

What a morning.

Why can’t I get a cool job like this?

How come I end up working with people who don’t like the Internet, don’t care about it and don’t want to help me?

I AM GOOD PEOPLE >>> HIRE ME! I will work for your Internet company. I will play your Wii and sit in your beanbag chairs and use your brand new Macbook Pro!

A critter of some sort died in our office recently… and it’s made the sales branch of the building reek like old gym shorts soaked in cow manure. It’s that bad, yes.

There were actually flies congregating in one of the offices (we’re assuming it’s up in the ceiling in that particular room) by lunchtime. And it’s 50 degrees outside, so definitely not fly time.

I work two floors up, so the scent didn’t reach me, but the sales force was in total kill-us-now mode. It didn’t hurt that the only guy who works downstairs (the CFO who irritates me) decided to come in for 30 minutes and then leave because his ear infection was hurting him. :P

To add insult to injury, the new guy in design is always fucking chipper. Happy, whistling, isn’t it a great day… so incredibly irritating when you are in a bad mood. Particularly when he tells you that you shouldn’t be so mad and he’s going to make you smile. Wtf? Thanks, I’d like to stay mad at my stupid ass boss and his uselessness and no, I do NOT have to smile today if I don’t fucking want too.

God. The irritation. I need a new job.

My company is running a conference in Baltimore. I made the Porkchop come with me because a) it’s boring, b) I need a drinking buddy every night and c) with him here, I have a good excuse to not go out with my bosses at night.

So far, at the airport the mean people threw away about $50 worth of lotions and lipstick. Granted, I forgot my little plastic baggie, but I figured they’d have one (every other time they have), but they didn’t, so I had to toss my stuff.

Then the taxi tried to kill us.

Also, being in this close proximity to my boss for this many hours is very, VERY wrong.

There’s an editor who I work with who, no matter how I phrase my emails, thinks I am attacking her to her very core.

She drives me batshit.

I have been dealing with her for months, but today, today I figured out how to deal with her.

I sent an email that actually did attack her.

Or rather, simply stated, “Look, I’m busy too. And this is for your magazine, so you better help me.”

So she apologized and agreed and said please and yada, yada.

Then, of course, not two seconds after I started typing this damn post, she emailed again saying, “Oh I don’t do that, and I do this and this and this.”

Honest to god, I want to smack her.

I make suggestions… they are NICE… I am exceedingly pleasant… yet no matter what, she always takes the defensive.

What the hell?

She’s from India. Could it be a cultural thing?

Anybody?

This is my day.

I almost ran out of gas on my way to work and learned that when the little gas light comes on, I can travel almost 20 miles before it sputters and dies.

Fortunately, it did that just as I was gliding downhill to the gas station. Which, incidentally, I would’ve been at sooner if there had been a GODDAMN SIGN. But noooo, that would’ve been way to easy.

You see, the little light came on just as I entered a 20-mile stretch of nothing-at-all-Highway. So I thought ahead and remembered there’s a giant shopping center area at the last exit before the one I take to get on the next highway to go to work. So I got off there, and went toward the center.

And was there a gas station? No, no there wasn’t. But I kept going, until somehow I crossed over the damn highway I had been on, four miles back the way I had come.

So now I’m freaking out and promising all sorts of things to the gas gods, seeing as how it’s 16 degrees, there’s snow on the ground, more is falling and I’ve had my heat off to conserve gas.

I see a fellow Jeep-driver and turn toward her, rolling down my window. She informs me that had I gone left off the highway, I would’ve seen the gas station.

I follow her the four miles back, swearing the entire way, positive I’m about to stall and certain I won’t know where to tell them to come find me because at this point I have NO FUCKING CLUE WHERE I AM.

Obviously I made it to the gas station, and then to work, where I got to deal with a very, very annoying French Canadian woman who will no doubt call me 10 more times today to torture me.