Thursday Morning

Right. So, cookies are not considered a balanced part of a good breakfast. But I thought I certainly deserved some sort of cookie-induced orgasm and "borrowed" the bag of Pepperidge Farm Nantucket chocolate chip cookies from the boss' office.

AP Girl called in today. Left a message for me on my voicemail saying she would not be in the office and could I please mail the checks. I take this as either an extremely good sign or an extremely bad sign. It could only mean one of two things. One - she got the job and will be turning in her notice tomorrow but decided to take today off to celebrate. Two - she didn't get the job and is depressed and moping at home. Needless today, I'm hoping for option number one. Everyone is grateful for the reprieve of her incessent chatter, fake smile, and bitchy attitude on this lovely Thursday.

On a side note, I've nearly caught all of my work up with the notable exception of certified payroll reports. I dreads it, precious...just dreads it. Least favorite part of my job description. The equivalent to banging my head on the desk repeatedly. Perhaps I should wait until my menstral cycle passes to delve into that wasteland of paperwork.

I Swoon...

:-/ I can't get PDS to work. The webspace provider's site is down as well. Looks like the databases are in a tizzy.

Put on some Wilson Pickett this evening which led to The Temptations. David Ruffin says, "Listen, life without love is so lonely. I don't think that I, I want you to know that I don't think that I'm gonna make it. All of my life, all my love belongs to you, girl. Come on home, girl. Come on and take it." I swoon! The music cuts out and he just fucking *croons* that line. Yesssssss... (Oh, the song is "Who's Lovin' You".)

*Another* wedding attendance is looming in my future. The only good thing to come of it is that I'm skipping out of work tomorrow at noon for a few hours of freedom before the wedding tomorrow afternoon.

Oh, and some fucking sexual tension that makes my heart skip a beat... (yes, I'm slightly off)

Snape nodded, and tapped the end grip of his scythe against the ground twice in rapid succession. As if obliging an order, the scythe pulled into itself until it had shrunk back to a six-feet height. "Nice trick," Hermione remarked as Snape once again handed the scythe to her. Snape pulled on his frock coat and robes, but did not bother to fasten the rows of buttons on his coat. "A simple set of spells placed on the wood during production," he explained breezily as he reclaimed it. "But, yes. It is a nice piece of craftsmanship." "You didn't happen to make it yourself, did you?" Hermione asked, mischief brightening her voice. "Because I don't think I've ever heard you speak so highly or sound so pleased with anyone's work other than your own." "No, I did not make it," he grumbled, his arm loosely around her back as he led her through the maze of trees. The little fire-fly lights which had not faded floated along with them, spinning through the air like their insect namesakes. "And if I've never spoken well of someone's work, it was merely because it deserved no such praise." "Of course, that's the only reason," Hermione challenged playfully. "It has nothing to do with you being stubborn, condescending, spiteful and -- dare I say it? -- pretentious." "I'm far from pretentious, Miss Granger," he rebuked smoothly. "I simply realize how capable I am and how incapable everyone else is." "Of course," Hermione rolled her eyes. "It seems that I forgot delusional in that list." Snape could not help but smirk. "I'll not argue the point with you." "So, you admit you're delusional." "No. I only mean to leave you to your own delusion." "Hmph," Hermione replied indignantly as Snape chuckled at her obvious disapproval. From Heart Over Mind by Regann (I bow, I praise, I worship)