On Thursday, I'm going on vacation ("Give it up, we're on vacation!") with about ten of my closest friends, and also a dozen or so people I've never met before, who will meet us at our destination. Did you ever hear of a crazier mini-break than that? Monkey's fiance S. has a cabin outside Yosemite (well, his parents have one), right on a lake, and we're all going to pitch tents in the yard and do a lot of semi-nude lounging about and heavy drinking.
S.'s family does this every 4th of July, and I'm told that you aren't allowed to do anything all weekend without a beer in your hand, but I think I can cope with that. Also, there is some kind of initiation ritual for the newbies (like me) called "itchy-pinchy," or something vaguely creepy-sounding like that, but they won't tell me what it involves. I'm told it doesn't involve nudity, which is a relief since S.'s dad is apparently the ringleader of the game.
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We have performance reviews coming up at work. Monkey says I don't have to read mine if I don't want to, and I don't want to. I know I'm a crappy receptionist, and I don't want to talk about it. I just want to get the hell out of here.
Yesterday I was pouring coffee for some clients, and an attorney came into the kitchen just as I spilled the coffee all over the counter. He said, "Um, you seem to have spilled some coffee there, RDG."
Really? Thanks, smart attorney guy!
"I know. What can I say? Pouring things is not my strongest career skill."
"Actually, I think pouring things might just be a basic skill."
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