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.: 7.06.2007 


Huzzah! My lung crud has returned! I am once again The Mucous Queen! BOW TO ME!!! (Dear Alanis Morisette, that was ironic. Check yer OED.)

Seriously now, this makes lung crud #5 in the past nine months. I am trying to get a hold of La Doctora so that we can sit down and have a talk. I am convinced the Advair is killing me. Also? I am running out of sick leave. I can't take two days off sick every month when I only get credited one day a month and am supposed to keep a 3-day cushion in the bank. Also? I'm just damn tired of being sick. I think what set it off this time was Dear Jane's apartment. She had just had all the carpet pulled up and laminate flooring installed. Either there was a lot of dust still in the air, the new flooring was offgassing, or her building has a mold problem (or all three). I was well and truly not coughing anymore until I went over there, which is sad because it really was a lovely night otherwise. It was the first SNB I'd gotten to attend in a long while.

In other news, I was gifted with some lovely red-black-white handspun by Leah that I will have to figure out how to turn into a really cool something. Possibly felted. Maybe anatomical. With some blue yarn needle-felted on top, it would be a kickass heart.

In other crafty news I think I've figured out how to make the blood spatter doily. Part of me is slightly ashamed that it's not more... complex. But I'm not a crocheter really, so I think it's the best I can do for now. And plus the yarn is so gorgeous that it will be doing most of the work.

To top off this week, I walked into my office yesterday to find that all that crazy rain had made ceiling leaks. There were about eight you has to run through (we called it "the gauntlet" later) to get to the Studio, and then once inside, there were only about four. Three of them were over my desk - not ON my computer, thank goodness, but my chair was soaked and so was my desk calendar. Scary Asian Bosslady had instructed one of my coworkers to move my computer to the other side of the desk (turn it around) so that I could keep working. Just as we were about to start, another leak started... right where I was going to sit! I wanted to just work from home at that point, but Bosslady had other ideas. Finally I was moved into our "recording room" (read: closet with a computer and a mic). Though it's nice to finally have a door, I can't close it because, well, it's not like I have any standing or authority or need for privacy (other than a frowned-upon desire to nap) that would afford me a closed door. It's all very strange feeling, like having a half-promotion or something.

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