Frogger:

OMG! How cute are these bags? A-damn-dorable, if you ask me! *sorry to whomever blogged about this recently - I read so many that I can't remember my source*

Two of them have been purchased (love you VISA - we'll talk again at billing time) - one could possibly be a gift for someone I may or may not know personally . . . to, you know, buy her love and celebrate her birthday . . . but more so buy her love, LOL.

On the giftee knitting front, there has been some emergency frogging. I started out 'unknitting', but that turned tedious about the second row, knowing I was staring down the barrel of 4 more rows. I ended up taking a deep breath and removed the needle for the necessary emergency surgery. The 'ugly' is over and I've even knit back all the frogged wavy stuff. *WHEW*. I can't explain more of my issues with this gift without giving huge clues of what it is, so . . . for now . . . alls I can say is that I refer to it as my PITA project (Pain In The Ass for those of you unschooled in interwebs-speak, and you know who you are Birthday Girl.)

Still married, in case y'all were wondering.

Still employed. It's weird to not have a 'title' at this job. There is someone who does the Payables and the Payroll (not me) and someone who does the Receivables (still not me) and someone who files and answers the phones and does grunt work (definately not me). I can do their jobs if ever needed (and several times I've done the Receivables). I'm over all that stuff. Not as in "I am SO over Brad Pitt" but as in "those ain't my jobs - I do stuff other than that at work". Pretty much I calculate and pay all taxes, fix the accounting to reflect accurate figures for financial statement purposes, I chew ass on the deadbeat clients, I respond to IRS, EDD, FTB, Worker's Comp, etc., etc., etc., crap, and trust me - with 120+ employees on the books at any given time and financial numbers in the millions, there is a metric fuck-load of claims, notices, legal suits and requests for financials. I do all the things that are way above the experience/knowledge of all my coworkers.

'Member that I used to work at an accounting firm before this gig? September 15, 2007 was the first tax return deadline I've not had to burn the midnight oil for, but the October 15th deadline (for individual tax returns - Fed & State) was bigger. That day, I came home at 5pm, cooked dinner, lalala, drank a beer, scritched the cats and did not give one thought to Section 179 and Unreimbursed Employee Expenses or hell, even the rankling Earned Income Tax Credit. Can I convey properly how much I am LOVING not working for 'The Firm' anymore?

LOVING.

IT.

Lov'n it lov'n it lov'n it!

At this job I can take my lunch any old time I want to. 11am? Sure! 2pm? No problem! If I want to leave early on a Thursday (to go to Crazy Aunt Purl's book signing)? Go right ahead. Wanna take a 1/2 day Friday to get to the Coast for Queen Of Curls' b-day. Get to gett'n.

LOVE THIS PLACE!

It's not the prettiest place to spend 8 hours every day, but the boss is aces, us office gals get along swimmingly and the guys . . . ? Well, the guys kind of get annoyed with all the ass chewing I have to constantly dole out but it only happens when they screw up their sales tickets/bank bags. Less screwing up equals less ass chewing, and I think they're finally catching on.

Did I mention that my company runs ten stores throughout the Central Valley? Yah, really. This company is Big. Big big biggity big . . . big. (I know that only makes sense to D&M fans - sorry.)

It's easy being Taskmaster by phone and computer though. December 15th is our company Christmas party and something tells me the guys are plotting a
Come To Jesus meeting, with me front & center. I can take it. That's why I get paid the big bucks. :sticks out tongue:

Caught Pushing Daisies tonight. It was definately different but I'll give it a look-see next week too. Wednesdays suck dead donkey balls (and how gross is THAT?) for T.V. viewing. Criminal Minds. Bleck. I'm so so sick of 'Female Victim-Vision' (and I'll save that rant for another day). CSI: New York has an 84 on the cheese factor scale (almost as cheesy barf-o-fucking-rama as those Law & Order spin-offs Criminal Intent & SVU). A pox on all those shows.

Outside of all that crap, I have to keep track of what I need to do tomorrow night to facilitate a smooth trip to The (other) Happiest Place On Earth.

Pack:

1) Knitting. And some clothes. Mostly knitting though.

2) The present(s).

3) Not a cat. Y'all have not idea how many times one of our fur-faces jumps into the 'travelling bag' and/or the 'going to the Vet' carrier with such a look of excitement and anticipation. "HOOWEE! We're going on an adventure!" yet every time they DO go somewhere, it's to the vet and they are MAD! Suckas, lol.

4) Some clothes. Naked knitting is not on the skedoolie.

5) Cash. What happens in Pismo stays in Pismo, for the right price. :wink: