Moving on Up, but This Ain't No East Side

I'm such a cry baby. I didn't know what a good thing I had, down on the first floor, in the darkness and amidst the Hawaiian shirts, but only on Fridays. When I was there, I did not appreciate the khaki-olive-grey half-walls around me. I got irritated when tall people leered at me (or my screen) as they walked by. I didn't cherish the anonymity, even getting annoyed when another employee did not recognize me. And now. Well, the Hawaiian shirts are still around, and the pseudo-married-guy flirting continues. (And, a note on the benign flirters-- they're all growing goatees. At a loss for words, I called them the scruffy chin club and they laughed hysterically. Because everything I say is hilarious. Because I'm a girl.)

I have moved, against my will, to the fifth floor, in front of everyone. I sit at a counter, my back to the main door of a suite that houses 50+ people, my screen facing them. I know, this makes it sound like I want to surf for questionable materials while I'm at work, but it's not that. It's just that I don't stay busy enough there, despite my cries for attention and assignments. I fear it's causing me to go crazy and develop at least one facial tic. Every time the door opens, I jump, try as hard as I can not to look over my shoulder, then switch my screen to a spreadsheet. Much like in college when Parker called me out for selling myself out when I hadn't read the assignment (I would participate more on those days. I wasn't fooling anyone), I feel like I'm totally giving myself away by trying too hard to look busy. I don't mean to do it, but I find myself scrunching up my face in mock confusion and making deep sighing noises of frustration. It got so bad this afternoon that I was rubbing my eyes and a passerby suggested that if I had a headache, I should probably take a break. Evidently, I'm not winning any Emmys for daytime drama here.

Otherwise, big things, HUGE things in the works, but you know how I love the element of fake suspense. Best friend from college and her child are coming up on Thursday night, so I need to buy whole milk and the like. Otherwise, keep on anticipating, my crickets.

Speaking of crickets, it has come to my attention that you are multiplying! Modestly, I'm aware, but I have gained an elementary understanding of how to read my site stats. Unfortunately, none of us know each other so well as to know our corresponding IPs (except for a select couple of NASA and Hopkins employees--slackers, you know who you are). So, because I'm nosy (as, obviously, you all can relate to, or else why would you read my blog?) would you mind stopping by the address book (at the bottom of the page) or leaving a comment? It would be much obliged.

Okay, time to hit the sack. The Boy and I are supposed to check out this new thing called jogging tomorrow...or maybe it's "yogging." Might be a soft 'j'.