I shifted down at a light, on the way into work, and felt something brush my hand. I look down just in time to see a black screw fall. And the gearshift came off in my hand.
This is looking like a traumatic day.
Following in the happy footsteps of The Spoonses and The Atlantics and The Meester and Meesus and The Times (and I’m not sure The Freaks count, technically, but I have to mention them anyway since they’re so cute), and whoever else I’m forgetting that met thru their blogs…
(I was already a little sniffly from SarahK’s post, but for some reason the BlogAd from the guys at ThoseShirts.com totally pushed me over the edge.)
They’re now forcing us to take an hour for lunch (without pay, obviously) every day. This is the first thing that’s seriously pissed me off, in the almost two years that I’ve been here. At my hourly rate, that’s an expensive $#@% lunch, plus I get home an hour later, when I already work very long hours.
But since it’s the only thing that really irks me, and otherwise this joint rocks my socks, I’m going to try to be a grownup and bend, here. So help me out, guys: I bring my lunch, and there’s no benches or roof access, to sit outside and eat or read. No cafeteria. I’m not going to sit in my car and either melt or waste expensive gas to run the a/c. My first thought was to start jogging, but there’s no shower here, so… yeah. So what do I do for an hour every day? Suggestions? (If you suggest a nooner, I’ll ban you. Trust me.)
Update: Hmmmm. There are showers in the building. Maybe I’ll become one of those freaks that runs during lunch. (Unless you guys come up with a better idea, of course…)
Goblet of Fire is apparently in the can, and stills are popping up all over.
With Miranda Richardson looking frighteningly similar to Madeline Kahn, I might add.
I still don’t think Clémence Poésy is nearly beautiful - or blonde - enough to play Fleur (and she seems to be slightly walleyed, but maybe that’s just a bad picture), but the chick playing Cho looks cute.
I saw someone in my stats looking for a countdown to Daniel Radcliffe’s legality, by the way. He’s not even 16. Which is creepy. (But I love this picture for entirely platonic, non-gross reasons, anyway! Sid!)
Update: HAHAHAHAHA!!! Perfect!