Love to all. Even you.

So. My office manager and I are leaving the office. Just before we went our separate ways, she sticks one of her iPod earbuds into my ear, to show that she’s listening to Fatboy Slim (who I listen to, as well).

I say: “Have you heard of PodJacking?”
She says: “No.”

I explain it was this brief fad where complete strangers would kind of randomly switch ipod jacks for a few seconds, check out each other’s music, and move on.

She was like: “Is that an old people thing?”

Love to all. Even you, youngster.

Dead Macbook Pro.

Dead Macbook.

Why do I not blog? Because I’m FIXING BROKEN MACS.

Fuck.

Love to all. Even you, Greg Joswiak.

My youngest has had a fever of 103 all day.

He just woke up twenty minutes ago. Or rather, he catapulted out of bed, semi-delirious, said he had to throw up, and spent the next five minutes trying to get his hands into the toilet, and screaming when I moved them.

He kept screaming “I want to play! I want to play!” And trying to reach into the toilet bowl. I was thinking: this little dude is asleep. This little dude is delirious.

So I finally said: “Do you want to play with the bath water?” He said yes.

I brought him downstairs. His fever was high, but not 103. He insisted that he get in the bath. He also started to seem much more lucid. I gave him some Motrin. He kept up about the bath, only in a less emotional

“What’s my name?” I asked.
“Daddy,” he said.
“How old are you?”
“Five.”
“Where’s Mommy?”
“Hershey Park.”
“You still want to get in the bath?”
“Yes.”

So I let him. I set the water in at a medium-cool level, thinking that would help knock the fever back until the Motrin worked. He got in, and started chit-chatting with me about Star Wars. Then, after five minutes he said: “I’m done.”

I said: “Why did you want to take a bath?”
He said: “I just did.
“Why were you trying to stick your hands in the toilet upstairs?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you remember that?”
“No.”
“Whoa, this was really funny, youngin’.”
“Well, it wasn’t that funny.”
“Hm. I guess you’re right. Ready for bed?”
“Yup!”

And he’s fast asleep. Now, how am I going to accomplish the same thing?

Love to all. Even you, the video graphics woman with the special pinky.

Last year, I instituted a fun little policy wherein one parent would go on a mini-vacation with one kids in a rotating pattern:

Me + Kid 1
Maggie + Kid 2
Me + Kid 3
Maggie + Kid 1
Me + Kid 2
Maggie + Kid 3

Thus, on Friday, Maggie and my daughter (Kid 2), left for Hershey Park. This morning, me and the boys were supposed to head out to do all kinds of fun things. But, alas, kid 3 has a fever of 103, and our plans are cancelled.

On the other hand, while I was attempting to remove a link from my new watch, and punctured my finger with a 1mm screwdriver, and accidentally flung the watch accross the room.

Yeesh.

Love to all. Even you, the nurse who acted like my not taking anything for a fever was crazy.

Maggie called and asked if I could come up with some extra cash. In the past, I would have gotten a little huffy, asked her what for, made her provide reasons, etc. Really stupid power-play reaction on my part. This time, though, I said “hey, don’t worry about telling me why, just tell me the amount, and I’ll tell you if we have it to front.”

She gives me the figure, I say “okay.” All ends super-peacefully.

She calls me a half-hour later and adds 50% to the figure. I say “But… but… I was just patting myself on the back for being so un-dickish about money for a change!”

And she said:

You know me, I have to push the envelope until you’re angry, so that I feel successful.

Now THAT is self-awareness.

Love to all. Even you, the angry ex-junkie who thinks we’re out to get her.