Doc Martin

Fear Not Drowning

Ultramundane.com

YOU'LL DANCE TO ANYTHING...

2000-06-08

[whine] Oh god, not again. What makes people think I can afford two hours for lunch in the middle of my day? Do they not realize that I usually eat lunch at my desk and work through? Or when I can spare the time, I visit sites, read news -- surfing for personal development, as it were -- as a break? Can't I do that? Huh? I'm a spoiled little baby and I don't like having my routine changed. Waah. [/whine]

Mmmkay. Cooler heads have prevailed (mine and theirs), and it was an hour lunch meeting nearby instead. I can surf in leisure. Mostly this lunch will be to discuss what we'll do since my boss will be out of town for two weeks. Hang on, let me say that again. She Will Be Out Of Town For Two Weeks. I can barely contain my excitement.

Sometimes I feel a little guilty being so critical of her -- above and beyond the general, universal guilt that I normally feel on a day-to-day basis -- because I know she's actually effective here. We have a real goal to make the company look credible to consumers (and subsequently, to look like a good target for advertisers to throw money at.) And she's had excellent, award winning work come from the people she's directed. But sometimes she just needs to spend two dollars and buy a clue; and sometimes, when she's got the charm of a hungry anaconda, she just needs to not speak to me.

I really want to write about last weekend when I went 'outside', but as the days pass I'm finding myself more and more disconnected from it. I suppose it's really only interesting to me, because it's a novel event for me as someone of my personality type. But then again, I am my primary audience here. The rest of you (all seven of you) just get to hear what these thoughts sound like when they echo around the huge cavernous space I call my head.

Anyway, I spent a little more time in the Great Outdoors this past weekend than I usually do. That is, any time at all. There was a lake, and cabins. The cabins were quaint, which is a polite way of saying they were a little scary. The Roommate joked about staying at the Overlook Hotel. There was a little of that there.

But as weekends go, there was nothing remarkable about it. A boat and a jet ski were rented. Barbecues were had. Lots of sunscreen was applied (in my case; The Boyfriend got a little red.) Insects bit. Books attempted to get read, though usually the novelty of watching the lake and shore, and the boats and waterskiers and small children won out in battles for attention. Towels were laid on the ground for looking through the leaves of the trees at the blue sky and sun. Children were fretted over. Snacks were made and shared. Whiskey and beer and wine were drunk in large quantities.

In short, it was a perfectly normal weekend away. And that felt a little wierd for several reasons, partly including the fact that I wasn't in front of a monitor for two days, and an equal part because of the fact that I didn't miss it.

Is that bad?

I think the part that bothers me the most is that they actually got me in bright yellow swimming trunks and into a pool. Thank god there were no photos. No evidence. It'll just be our little secret.

Right?

_Casey

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