January 13, 2000
Did you ever have a neighbor who treats your house as if it's an extension of his own? Sometimes I feel as if I live in the west wing of G's house. Since I work at home and have office equipment available at no charge, twenty-four hours a day, and since I can be bought off with a Reese's bar or a raisin pastry, my place is much more attractive than Kinko's when he needs copies made.
Last night he was here at nine o'clock to use the copier. He was trying to make invitations to the birthday party he's giving for himself next weekend. He wanted to print on both sides of a sheet, so he could fold it like a greeting card. After watching him struggle and hearing him cuss, and thinking he might have to spend the night, I took over and made him sit on the couch while I finished the job for him.
Then today, just as I was leaving for the post office, the phone rang. "I'm just leaving for the post office," I tell him.
"Could you wait just a minute? I'll put some pants on and come over. I need to use your computer to print out my resume." (Thanks for small favors, by the way.)
His resume, it turned out, was an attachment to a Yahoo mail message, so I had to sign out of Yahoo (pardon me, My Yahoo) and sign in with his name and password. By the time we were finished with this little exercise, I had missed my window of opportunity to get to the post office and back before the high school got out for lunch, so I had to drive through the parade of jalopies and pickups and pedestrians with attitude.
G needed his resume for a job interview today. Let's hope it went well, because I'd like to see him in someone else's office during the work day.
So you want to know who's going to win the NFL playoff games this weekend? Well, I came in second in this year's pool without winning a single week. So you have to listen to me.
Aren't you glad you asked?
Weekend! If Friday's approaching, can the weekend be far behind? Not that it makes much difference, because I'll be working off and on Saturday and Sunday. But at least I'll be able to sleep in. And the phone won't be ringing as much, which counts for a lot. There are many times when I actually prefer working on the weekend, just because I can get something done without the endless, pointless interruptions. And it gives me an excuse (or at least a rationalization) for slacking off during the week.