Suzy Says

Well, today is just going to be peachy.

Number one, it was a spring shower when I left for work this morning, but long about Grace Cathedral, it turned into the storm from hell, with high winds turning my feeble umbrella inside out, thus allowing the now torrential rain to attack face and hair. You can imagine how lovely I look, and just in time for the meeting with the Big Boss today, who is gracing us with his presence for no known reason. The sudden change in the rain must be something like the experience of parents, whose cuddly, adorable baby who worships them suddenly changes into a snarling, hateful teenager who thinks they are pointless idiots and doesn’t hesitate to share this viewpoint. So I got the rest of the way to work clutching the shreds of my umbrella with wet hands and have repaired the worst of the damage, but mood pretty much matches the weather.

If this is the new weather, it really is like the new math: incomprehensible and deeply unpleasant. By now, we should be having days of blue skies and sunshine and umbrellas should be languishing in the closet until after Thanksgiving. Furthermore, they should have been languishing since, say, March. If I wanted real weather, I’d be living somewhere cheaper, like Seattle. Living somewhere this expensive to get the same horrible weather as Seattle or Portland seems downright stupid at this point.

One of the guys I work with quit to go to grad school in New York, so that leaves the remaining guy and me with all the work. If that wasn’t enough fun, we are converting all the client reports to a new format, which is extremely time consuming. It’s Suzy’s work nightmare: really, really boring and tedious, yet you have to pay attention. And you know how boredom is my biggest fear after death, so imagine the fun. It takes a solid 8 hours to convert one report, and I have 35 to do, and that doesn’t include checking them afterwards. Oh, yeah, and we don’t get paid overtime. Add in the fact that I have to get everything done by May 30 in time to go to Toronto, and you have a recipe for some serious work horror. If I wasn’t going up to my mother’s house to be her unpaid servant this Saturday, I’d probably be here working. Am unable to decide which is the worst of these two options.