Here at work. I think this is only my second entry from the office. I don't generally like writing from here, and it always sort of surprises me to see so many entries from people who are writing at work, in their lunch hour, whatever.

It's helping that I'm listening to my Lomax stuff via the headphones. I guess it makes me feel more private.

It's not helping that I seriously have to pee. Here the ladies' room is like a LONG way away so I tend to hold my pee as long as humanly possible before trekking over there. Contrarily, the fucking MEN's room is like 4 feet from the office, and in a generally much more accessible spot. What the hell is that? Fuckers.

Tonight I get to go fire my friend.

I've been trying to psych myself up for this all day.

Already written extensively about this. But to briefly recap: She sucks at what she does, she's a very old friend of mine, and apart from the friendship I feel vaguely responsible for her because I brought her here from Chicago to work for me.

So I've been talking to myself (brain to neuroses, as usual) all day. Sort of along the lines of well, yes, you did bring her to NYC to work but that WAS two years (more) ago and in the meantime she has turned herself into an ungrateful prima donna who is not doing a goddamn thing while the person she is supposed to be managing is working all weekend to make sure we meet our deadlines.

Yeah, I brought her here, but it has to have been her responsibility to DO something with that, right? Right. Must be.

Still sucks.

And Sine: Did you neglect to notice that I live in *Brooklyn*?? You can't talk to me about pizza. In fact, nobody that doesn't live either in Brooklyn or Italy can talk to me about pizza. Given that you're Australian, I'll pardon you if you are unaware of the fact that we here in the hood are *famous* for our pizza. There have been entire *movies* about pizza in Brooklyn. Several. And many more involving pizza in Brooklyn as something other than the central character. Our pizza will kick your pizza's ass around the block and back again. Our pizza's mama could kick your pizza's mama's ass into next week. Your pizza's mama wears army boots.

Got it?

Thank you all for your birthday wishes. Much appreciated, and very sweet of everyone. I am officially one quarter of a century old.

Very uneventful birthday day. Happily I didn't actually wind up going to Jersey to hang with Large Unnamed Client as I had expected, because the only meeting I could scrape up was not happening. So came to office, went home. Sat and watched teevee with the Boy.

Yep, that's sort of it.

Next Saturday looks like we're actually going to GET the baby girl Tiny Marsupial to be current Tiny Marsupial's Girlfriend. Cross your fingers that they get along, but I'm not too worried about that. Girl Baby has been raised with other Marsupials, and Current Boy lived with several and since he's been with us he has become very very social and friendly.

I continue to be bland and uninteresting, don't I.

Maybe after tonight's unpleasantness I'll have something more to write about.

Unlike everyone else in the world, I couldn't give two shits about football, so I'm not able to voice any opinions there.

I could put forth on my opinions of the Enron situation, and the fact that I think there's some really interesting trends happening that I personally believe are going to affect a variety of things over the next couple of years, but that's probably just as dull.

Sooooo, I'll go.

I'll probably come back later if I opt not to drown myself in booze after firing my friend.