not dead, but certainly not dreaming

put in ten hours over the weekend, to bring my total for the last pay period to something over a hundred hours. full day today. came back from dinner to two frantic phone messages, returned the first one to get bitched at for something i had no way of knowing [look, i didn't fucking _handle_ the hotel booking, how the fuck am i supposed to know the reservation is for 150 people? so don't get pissy with me when it's A) _just_ coming to your attention, B) too fucking late to do anything about it, and C) I had nothing to do with that end of the arrangements anyway. as you may have noticed, I've been a little fucking busy lately.

so tomorrow, I get to begin my workday sometime before 7am to haul shit to the venue, set up, make sure people get their shit, make sure there is adequate amounts of shit to be given [64 sets of materials, with an expected turnout of 48-50, with unknown numbers of walk-ins]. . . and then i get to cool my heels.

minor upside: Jaime has been busting his ass alongside me all weekend, and if this is the narrow wedge of getting him into the office to take my place, i'm all right with that. plus, apparently Big Pat's daughter is both young, nubile, and single. . . and according to her dad, who is both religious as fuck and not given to flights of whimsy [though he admits an appreciation for Monty Python that surprised me, and says his middle son is a Spaceballs fan]. . . she apparently is often mistaken for Britney Spears. she is, for whatever unknown reason, also going to be hanging out with us [mom will also be in tow.] maybe Jaime will have better luck. heheheh

k should be home soon. hopefully. i'm exhausted, i'm cranky, and i want.this.shit.to.stop.