Oh my stars it was a busy week. One of our agents was out on vacation. It was intense handling her very large account and also doing my own work. I am just not used to the corporate travel method of working anymore: wham, bam, email you, ma'am. Racing the clock to the end of the semester was time consuming as well. But all is unalloyed joy now. The weekend's here, my final is done, the vacationing agent is back next week, and the sun is guaranteed to shine this weekend after an overcast week. I hear my garden calling.
After walking the dog tonight I slipped into a comfortable old sleepshirt and settled in for some serious loafing. John and I were upstairs watching highly educational television, i.e. Entertainment Tonight, when we heard someone knocking on the door...and knocking, and knocking. No one comes over after eight in the evening and no one knocks like a mad woodpecker except my best friend Denise. "I bet that's Denise," I said as John answered the door. I peeked around the corner like some shy woodland creature dressed in a purple muumuu. "John!" she commanded as she swooped into the room, "leave now. There will be shrieking." John, a seasoned veteran, left as instructed.
She put an evelope in my hand containing a voucher for two tickets to any of June's San Francisco Opera performances which she had bid on in a silent auction. We shrieked like cockatoos, then she left. I am so excited. If it were just me going I'd pick Giulio Cesare because I love Handel, but I'm taking Denise. She's never been to the opera, and that would not do for an introduction. I know she'd like Carmen, and I suppose Puccini would sound familiar to her but I have no intention of ever sitting through Madama Butterfly again in this life...unless we can't get tickets to Carmen, in which case what the hell. Anyway, that was a happy surprise. I'm going to the opera this year!
Earlier in the week I was overjoyed to observe Jasper voluntarily running up to our houseguests Alan and Janice to get pets and hugs. They were alone with him in the house for part of each day while they were staying with us, and reported that he was perfectly content with the situation. I am so relieved to know he is well-behaved when we're not around. This means we can plan on hiring an overnight pet sitter for our Wisconsin trip in July. Jasper picked up a nasty kennel cough and an eye infection at the kennel while we were in New York. He's recovered now, but I don't want to board him if I don't have to. I'm so happy he's socialized enough to deal with strangers in the house as long as they've been introduced to him by us. He still growls at the mailman.
Two people have agreed to participate in the Journalcon panel I'm moderating. This is excellent news to report at the next Journalcon meeting, the one in Berkeley. The location inspires dread, though. Berkeley hates me, and I hate it because after all these years I still get dismally lost every time I drive there. I also have a baby shower to attend that weekend in Berkeley. Are they the same day? They are not. The universe is cruel. The universe mocks me. "Ha ha, puny mortal!" it says. "Cement barrier! One way street! Non-existent freeway exit! Rally For Something Important street closures! Nyah nyah!"
Excuse me. Got carried away for a moment. I'm a little unreasonable on the subject. Besides, I'm planning to take BART. But that's a ways off. For now, I have two days of nothing but time on my hands and a pile of Buffy tapes to catch up on. I might just stay in this purple sleepshirt all day tomorrow. The cheapest form of self-indulgence is to stay in one's jammies all day when one is not sick. It feels vaguely decadent.
Of course it does disturb the neighbors if I walk the dog in my nightgown so I suppose I may concede to social mores and deign to throw on sweats for the public forays, but darn it, I'm going to be a nightie-wearing, Diet Coke swilling, software downloading slacker for the rest of the weekend if I feel like it.
What a rebel.
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