digitaldiscipline ◾ ◾ Fuck This. It's Fist.Of.Death Time

Today's only redeeming feature is that the boss is out of the office for a conference this morning so I can make PowerPoint my bitch without his intrusion.

Of course, he fed me bad information late yesterday, or I misunderstood something he wanted me to distribute, so I have apparently made an ass of myself to an email distro list of 300 folks we deal with professionally, or at least a small subset therof.

Still no word from our partnered agency as to what the fuck they're doing with the American Express credit card transactions - there's only, oh, two thousand bucks' worth of registrations pending for next Tuesday's session that I don't know if people have even paid for to attend.

Incidentally, materials for distribution at said seminar haven't been finalized, much less printed, burned to disk, or anything of the sort. I'm still putting shit into powerpoint.

Random Aside: I don't know how many of you are familiar with the phrase "Puerto Rican Shower," used as a derogatory term for simply hosing oneself down with something like Right Guard in lieu of using soap and water. I witnessed one of these yesterday. In my living room. By an actual Puerto Rican guy [admittedly, he was blood family of a good friend, and had just gotten out of the real shower, but this ritual of dousing oneself to mask the scent of putting recently-sweatted-in clothing back on was a bit of a surprise].

So, anyways, instead of having a big, geek-out "batchelor" weekend with the newly-arrived Jeeves from Brooklyn while

aishlynn gets in some good family time up north, I'll probably be in the office all fucking weekend buring disks, printing handouts, making nametags, and trying really really hard not to shove a phone book up my boss' ass.