so I’m finally starting to get some perks at this job. a used printer/fax/copier showed up a few days ago and no one wants it. no one at all. anywhere. in the world. which means that it’s far enough down the totem pole for me to have it….and I’ll take it, thankyouverymuch. also, my boss upgraded to a GPS Palm Pilot and gave me his old one. as though it were nothing. so I scooped that up as well. of course, I have no real need for a palm pilot, it sort of serves as my glorified address book…ontop of the one I have on my cell. which is another device I only use to 10% of its capability. sorta like my brain.

things were off to a good start this morning. I was actually going to be at work early (which NEVER happens), however, all my coworkers wouldn’t even be around to see my glorious arrival. one of my bosses is in san fran, the other is coming in at noon, and my cubicle buddy doesn’t work today. great. so I get here at 6:50am, go to open the door, and boom. I am stuck. well, not me really, the key. the key is stuck in the door. it’ll move about half an inch to the left, none to the right, and I’m stuck. so I call security and sound like an asshole because, really, how are they going to get the key out of the door? I’m waiting around for what seems like forever, randomly trying to pry the key out myself, when I hear something. ever so quiet, it’s coming from INSIDE the office. what’s this? it sounds like drilling, like at the dentist’s office. and of course I’m thinking “jesus, someone broke into the office, jammed the door and is now confiscating all of our sensitive materials!” I decide to confront the robber by banging on the door. I wait, I bang some more, and finally the door opens…by one of the guys from facility. he was working inside one of offices and already had security help him inside. which is why me turning an unlocked door screwed things up. I am stupid.

some things I’ve missed reporting about- st. patrick’s day…very fun. we went to a couple of bars where I got very wasted. we’re talking, nate had to drag me out of the place basically against my will. someone asked me the next day if the bar was crowded and I honestly couldn’t answer them. all I know is I was dancing A LOT and there were some people around me…in my general area…but other than that, nothing. we tried going home on the subway but I couldn’t keep my head up and nate was worried I was gonna hurl, so he shoved me in a cab. he put my victoria’s secret bag in my lap (I like to shop when I’m drunk) and sent me home while he went to get the car. it was one of the rides where you have the windows open and you pray that you won’t puke. you control your breathing and try not to close your eyes too much, because the spinning is unreal. so, I make it out of the cab and run inside and pass out. I have NO IDEA how I made it to work that next morning. I would like to thank the makers of tylenol and water, I couldn’t have done it without them. for as wasted as I was, it’s a miracle I wasn’t completely hungover.

on friday night, I decided to brave the alcohol front again. this time we went to harper’s ferry in allston because danielle wanted to see this allman brother’s tribute band. apparently she knows someone in the group by two degrees. I dunno. it was fun, though, an nice mix of college kids and really old people dancing like it was 1976.

so the next day I’m looking for my shopping bag and realize that I’ve left it in the cab. dammit.

sunday was the *big race* and it was a lot of fun. there were SO MANY people there. seriously, if you’re single and want to find someone, just sign up for every 5K there is. not only are the people in shape, but they also like to drink when they’re done running. you can’t lose.

I bought nate a replaytv for his birthday and it finally arrived yesterday. however, we don’t have the right cable cord to hook it up so I am missing out on taping general hospital, oprah, and dr. phil. you have no idea how excited I was about that. really.

So one of the doctors keeps putting my name on his packages, I guess he feels the mailroom knows my name better than his. Whatever, that’s fine. The first thing I received (for him) this week was an ipod charger. Which I was confused about at first, because I didn’t see that it was for him and I also have an ipod and I didn’t order jack. This morning another package arrives for me and even though I assume it’s probably for the doctor, I decide to press my luck and open it. Hey, maybe someone sent me something, right? No. Not unless they were sending me jock straps. Seriously, that is what he ordered. With MY name on it. It’s for biking, it’s technically called an “adult supporter,” and has a lovely picture of it on the outside, so I can be sure of what I’m getting. Ok, so I understand sending stuff to work, because you’re not always home, but underwear?? Are you kidding me?

I’m going to tell him to put his name on it next time, I don’t want any more surprises. Like viagra or some shit.

The race is this sunday and I have taken my jogging outdoors. My old roommate, Zahra, and I went on a loop over the MIT bridge and down the esplanade. It was refreshing, it was invigorating…it was a god damn wind tunnel on the bridge. Seriously, it wasn’t even a ‘windy’ day and I was ready to curl up in a ball and die. That cold folks. Of course, I need a constant temperature of 78 degrees to be happy, so don’t go by judgement. Go by the other dozen runners who were out there with me. I wasn’t sure if I should be motivated by their speed, or embarrased by my lack of it. I will choose to be inspired.

I was watching Nanny 911 last night and this amazing woman was teaching the children how to express their feelings and stop having epileptic fits on the floor - which was happening, oh, every half hour. So I decided to try the method with Molly, my lovely bunny. The Nanny says to get on their eye level and try to understand what is wrong. Molly, however, was not willing to communicate her problems to me.

I am eye level with her: “Molly, don’t shit on the floor. Only shit in the cage and in your litter box. Do you understand me?”

Molly: hops out of the cage, runs to the corner, looks me in the eye, pees on the carpet.

Me: “You sonofabitch. I told you to pee in the cage! Why did you do that!?”
I place her back in the cage.
“Molly, please defecate in the appropriate boxes.”

Molly: moves her nose a bit, hops out of the cage and up to me, climbs on my leg, hops around the room for a minute and then begins to shit a parade around the floor.

She is then permanently placed into the cage for the night.

Thank-you Nanny 911.