Friday Limbo, 2007, Holiday Party

Stupid Friday.

So here's the deal. Every Friday during lunch, I like to go to the gym and work out since a.) it's good for me b.) I can take a little longer lunch on Fridays since it's a little more casual and c.) I'm going to do enough harm to my body over the weekend that I need to counterbalance it some how.

I should also point out that while my boss is not a clock watcher at all, she also doesn't come in on Fridays which makes it that much easier to take an extra 15 minutes at lunch.

Well, today was one of those days where my boss decided to come in since we had a big meeting to go to. Before the meeting started, we had to go over our presentation again and work out a few kinks. Nothing big, but since I'm a Power Point wizard (Thanks 4.5 years at Ohio State!), I had to lend my skills to the task at hand.

This would've been all well and good if we hadn't started working on this thing at 11:30 and the meeting was at 2:00. We finished fixing up the presentation around 12:30 so I didn't have time to sneak in a work out without coming back looking like the sweat monster that I am.

The meeting got done around 3:30 so I thought I could cut out early and work out before happy hour. I usually like to say goodbye to my boss when I leave, so as 3:45 rolled around, I stopped by her office and she wasn't there. I went back to my office, sent out some funny e-mails about Bill Cowher "retiring" from coaching the Steelers and then checked back around 4:00. Still not there.

As I write this it's 4:24 and she just got back to her office. If I leave now to go work out I'll be late - and most likely sweaty - for happy hour. If I head straight to the bar, I'll be drinking by myself for 45 minutes waiting for people to show up. (Actually, that doesn't sound too bad.)

Instead, I'm sitting here writing this in a sort of limbo state. If you're a Catholic, this is the equivalent to Purgatory. You know, that place where unbaptized babies go when they die. I'm sort of in that place. Except without all of the, um, crying and such.

(Sorry. Even for me that was terrible.)

I'm going to go ahead and stop right there with this topic before a lightning bolt comes crashing through my window.

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It only took until Wednesday before I heard the first "I accidentally wrote 2006 instead of 2007 in my checkbook" story. Actually, this story had a twist as the listener responded with, "Yeah, well I wrote the year 2005 in the other day!" This was followed by some giggling and the sound of me slamming my head onto my desk repeatedly.

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Next week, we're having our office holiday party at some stuffy private club. Seeing as the average age of my department hovers around the 45-ish mark, I'm sure it's going to be a gas. I'll have full updates of it next week so that all of my readers (both of you) can read about what it's like to hang out with drunk middle aged people that aren't your parents.

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That's all I've got for this posting. Have a good weekend and GO BUCKS!