Sharing Space

Okay. So I’ve said recently that some things – by things I mean complaints – are personal and should stay that way. And I believe it. But today I have an issue that must be addressed.

Sharing workspace.

I arrived at my EDJ (aka evil day job, aka bowels of HELL) today to discover that my work area had been co-opted for the annual spring blood drive. I’m all for driving the blood. I don’t even mind them driving it in my workspace. What is absolutely not okay is letting me know ten minutes before my minions arrive that I have to find someplace else for them to go.What is not okay is when the Red Cross people (because I didn’t know they were coming and thus didn’t prepare the area for them) move my shit so I can’t find it. (Note, I don’t blame the Red Cross people for this – I entirely blame the organizers who should have given me a head’s-up weeks ago).

I’m not at my best dealing with change (do you hear me KK????), but add chaos and truly obnoxious and un-courteous adolescents into the mix… Well, let’s just say that today was not a stellar day for me in the diplomacy department.

Of course, the fact that I’m teetering on the cusp of PMS-ability didn’t help, either.

So, shitty day. Really, really shitty day. A day on which I had to come home, inhale chocolate and hug my cat. A lot. Now I’ll make soup for the Old Man, dive back into the next few chapters of The Seventh Veil, and hopefully finish the fucking sex scene I’m plodding (plodding during sex? not good) through in Nuriel. Did I mention chocolate? And hugging my cat?



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