There are so many things to catch up on, but first things first: Loathsome is back. His project is finished and he's moved back into his office on the other side of Crazy Employee. Can't you just feel the estrogen surge? You know you want him.
Speaking of wanting people, I had this very odd dream last night. It went on and on and on, then finally culminated in me sitting in an office, feeling very very sad. Guess who walked in? Charles Barkley. Right. The Round Mound of Rebound, the Chuckster, the Chuck Wagon, the NBA great. He noted my unhappiness and said, "I know what you need. You need to have sex with Charles Barkley." I didn't find it the least bit surprising that he referred to himself by name. I looked at him forlornly and shook my head. No. Meanwhile, Charles is taking off all his clothes and he smells likes he's played a couple of overtime periods. All I could think of as he got undressed was that it wasn't going to even be logistically possible. I'm 5'5". The Chuckster is enormous. It frightened me a little. The dream ended as he lay down on me. No wonder I feel so tired today.
As I mentioned last week, I spent several hours one day working on the Information Superhighway's husband's resume. It looks like he's going to need an alias, because I see him taking up a lot of blog space for a while. I think his name should be Repo Man. That's one of the many fine career change options he's weighing these days. Seriously. Repo man. He mentioned that career possibility to the Superhighway before I got his resume in order. After I finished on Wednesday, Repo Man called her to tell her what a nice email I sent him (with interview tips) and how helpful he thought the resume would be as he began his new (new) job search. As a pig farmer. Or a turkey farmer. Either one. Same difference, really. He has absolutely no experience in any kind of farming. For that matter, he doesn't have any repo experience, either.
Repo Man actually possesses some highly marketable skills. He's an electronic tech and has a journeyman electrician license. When the Superhighway told him she didn't think being a pig or turkey farmer was a good career move, the told her that her problem is she doesn't want him to have a dream. She was sick yesterday and stayed home today. I fear that by the time she finally makes it back to work, he'll have decided his dream is to be a traveling carnival worker.
There's big news on the home front, too, but my eyeballs feel like someone poured gasoline in them and set them on fire. Oh the oak. The mold. The pollen of all kinds. I'll be back tomorrow with some Hubby news. Who knows, I might even run into Loathsome in the hallway.