Thursday is rapidly approaching. How I am going to get everything done by then is anyone’s guess–I suspect I will be working from home wednesday night. Since I’ve spent the past month working on Intake after Intake, its no wonder why I am falling behind.
It has nothing to do with taking a goddamn lunch break either.
What I am worried about is the inevitable “Post-Seattle Funk” that I will be in on Tuesday. I have taken the morning of Tuesday off so I can get some sleep after my flight–but other than that, I have no idea how I am going to speed up the readjustment process. If you, dear readers, have any ideas, I’ll buy you a pizza. Or a toy. Or a sammich. Or Beer. Or Coffee.
Or a gift certificate to office depot.
On an related note, all of my Seattle photos are of people in Seattle. While people do make a city great, you’d think I’d have at least one picture of the city itself.
I was supposed to be in Seattle this weekend, but I had to drop my plans. My friends, The Tossers, are playing at El Corazon on Sunday. I was going to meet them in Portland and follow them up to Seattle. I’m still bummed that I can’t go. I don’t particularly care for Irish punk, but they put on a great show, and they’re fun to hang with.
Go see the following on Tuesday night. It’ll remind you of how awesome Chicago is.
The Awful Truth
Grant Park – Butler Field, Aug. 7, 8:34 p.m.
Cary Grant and Irene Dunne prove that it ain’t over till it’s over as a husband and wife who sabotage each other’s new relationships while they wait for their divorce to be finalized. This 1937 screwball comedy is fluffy, fun and loaded with lighthearted romantic appeal.
We’ll get you a photo of some sort of Seattle-y landscape thing. Maybe of the traffic we’ll be sitting in on the way to the wedding. The floating bridge will be closed so that the Blue Angels can practice.
Your friends the Tossers. That’s like saying, “My boy, Jesus Christ.”
Now I have to find myself a way to El Corazon.
You know who they are? Please tell me you aren’t comparing The Tossers to Jesus Christ. Their egos are big enough already. 😉 Ok, not really. Well, at least not all of them. If you really think you might go, let me know. I’ll call Mike & tell him a friend of mine might be at the show.
Isn’t that a masturbation euphemism? Marty is probably well acquainted with them then…