whiteravengirl: science is fun; gloves are difficult. (what fresh hell is this.)
you can tell exactly what kind of day it's going to be when you answer your first phone call at 8:03 a.m. with "good afternoon, [company name], this is jennifer." oh man. eight hours. eight hours, and then i've got a ridiculously awesome weekend ahead of me. eight hours. *clutches coffee*
whiteravengirl: science is fun; gloves are difficult. (miss sarah's a dancer.)
dear canadia,


thanks for being awesome.

of the thirty-odd people i have called all over the continent since getting in at eight this morning, the guy at our distributor in saskatoon was absolutely the nicest and second most adorablest canadian ever. he wished me coffee(!).

eta: wow, if i ever meet my company's outlook support/website design guy, i'm going to stab him in the face for being a) a patronizing dickweed and b) doing really, really shitty webdesign. so, you know. if i ever call any of you from jail, you know why! and now i get to go home, thank fuck.
whiteravengirl: science is fun; gloves are difficult. (Default)
since about 6:30 this morning when i first rolled over and moaned plaintively at my alarm clock, the phrase looping through my head has been "buffy want beer. beer good. foamy. boy smell nice." because really, beer is good. and it is foamy. and boy does smell nice. and i can't think of a nicer way to spend today (or any day, really) than curled up in bed with a four-pack of guinness and male unit #1. sadly, i'm at work, and hideously bored, and i call (furtively) upon the internets at large to provide succor to my boredom. if only because beer and boy will come after work. yay, after work.

so. entertain me, those of you who still read this! come talk to me about the jericho femmeslash i'm writing! come talk to me about beer, or politics, or cheese. just, for the love of god, keep me from jabbing this pencil in my eye. please?
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