Last weekend was my office’s biennial membership meeting. It’s a 40-hour grind of registration and receptions and note-taking and task-doing and errand-running and really it’s just a ginormous pain in the tuchus. But it’s over and that’s all that matters. Of course, I’d prefer it if we got anything vaguely resembling comp days, but what are you going to do?
The grounds were beautiful, but the conference center is in the middle of nowhere and EVERYONE got lost heading to and fro. The Saturday lunch speaker pulled a no-show and there were all sorts of logistical nightmares. It all worked out in the end, though, I suppose. The boss-man seems happy enough, but I’m still dragging like crazy. Thirty hours of sleep and I’ll be good to go. Maybe 40.
I did manage to get some knitting done during my 10-hour shift at the help desk. Probably would’ve been enough to finish my #2 Anya, had I chosen to work on it. Of course, I chose to cast on for something new (and why wouldn’t I? Have we met?). I’m tempted to cast on for another pair of socks before the end of the
month, just so I already have a pair of socks on needles before "Finish a #*!@# Project" month begins. Only a week and a half to go!
I also worked on reading Nineteen Minutes for book club but there’s no way I’m going to be done by tomorrow night’s meeting. As I refuse to pull an all-nighter for book club, I have to decide whether to attend the meeting without finishing the book or skip the meeting. Hrm…