First thought upon realizing the corporate email servers are a big ole SNAFU and won’t be doing any Lazarus-style rising at all today.  On a huge mamba-jamba of a deadline day.

Oh. My. Sweet. Fuck. KILLMENOW.

Second thought, upon realizing that only a select number of colleagues have my personal email address, and I can actually concentrate on meeting said deadlines without being disturbed by the 46,083 urgent!urgent! emergency! haironfire! readmefirst! youhaven’tansweredthenoteIsent2minutesago! emails and projects currently hitting the wall of the dead server like a rotten tomato, which will all just have to simmer the hell down and wait until the server comes back up (when?  IT Magic 8-ball says BETTER NOT TELL YOU NOW. ALSO, WE’RE A TECH FIRM, WHAT WOULD MAKE YOU THINK OUR EMAIL WOULD BE FUNCTIONAL?)

SwEEEEEEEEEEET!

Of course, I’m going to hate life when the server comes back up and I’m checking 40 bazillion, increasingly irritated notes wondering where the hell I’ve been all day but, hey, let’s savor the moment, shall we?

In other news.  We built a garden!  With live vegetables and stuff! With our very own handsies!  And let’s pretend it was totally the original plan and not a ploy to avoid having to painstakingly rake, grade and plant the back of our yard with grass.

Let’s also just enjoy this small, 100 foot square plot of paradise (watermelon, squash and cantaloupe still to be planted) and ignore the weedy, verdant hell that borders the rest of the yard.

And let’s not talk about the strange smell wafting from the general direction of the kitchen, which is more than likely a mouse carcass trapped in the wall.  Or the dead mouse I found curled around Emerson’s wooden block.

And you know that obsessive tendency that some people have about pulling out their own hair?  We have a chicken like that.  She doesn’t want to talk about it.

That’s doesn’t leave me with a lot to talk about then, does it? 

Uh…my hair smells good.