brain: …BOOM!

Page from X-Men: The Dark Phoenix Saga where Jean Grey becomes Dark Phoenix

Any comic geek worth their salt* knows the events that lead up to this declaration and subsequent explosion. This is pretty much where I am right now at the office. I’ve been here before, but lately I’ve been moving well past burned out and right up to meltdown.

Yesterday morning, I was asked to complete a task, that was due by the end of the day. I’m already tired of people coming over and saying “Sorry for the short notice!” But in this case, when I followed the e-mail trail for the task directions, it turns out that this was information that had been sent around weeks ago. Except in my position I don’t have the luxury of throwing out the ol’, “Bad planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.”

You might be tempted to ask, “Why Brian, why didn’t you take the other job that was offered last month?” And right now that does sound like a good question. The problem is that I do still love my work, just not my job right now. Add in the stress of an impending family invasion and the pre-cleaning and tidying and I’m ready to explode. Oh and this tidbit just iced my cupcake this morning:

The District’s official tourism office, Destination DC, reports that there are 15,000 rooms available in Maryland, Virginia, Delaware and the District.

A total of 800 rooms remain available within the District limits, said Victoria Isley, Destination’s senior vice president for marketing.

Hotel rooms… still available… oh isn’t that nice. šŸ™„

 

* If you are not a comic book geek, find the nearest socialized one, show them this page and ask for the short version of what led up to that moment. Seriously, specify the short version or you’ll be there all day.

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2 Responses

  1. Shaw Girl says:

    Perhaps you should anonymously send that tidbit to your family…you know, as a small suggestion.

    latest entry: Sunday Brunch at Commonwealth

  2. Lindsay says:

    I agree with Shaw Girl. They must know they’d be more comfortable in a hotel, unless they’re like my parents, which means they just want to see their li’l binger and sit on the couch and watch the Inauguration on TV, and they can’t think of any way to do that besides entrapment.

    Note: “binger” rhymes with “singer.” it’s not what my parents called me since I was a child for the reason you think it is.

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