Anna S. (eliade) wrote,
Anna S.
eliade

greetings from the great white...

I suppose that could be me, or the North, or the shark. Or the hope.

There is a defibrillator hanging on the wall of the call center. I'm not sure what to make of that. When I hurriedly shoved down my lunch just now--ah the glamour of a three-martini lunch on an expense account frozen vending machine pizza in the breakroom--they were showing "Passions" on the TV. I'd never seen it. It was scary and kind of hysterical. I'm tempted to tape it, but then again, no. I'd really only want vid footage for years gone by, as story research, and even then...no.

I'm three minutes away from my big meeting of the day. It's been relatively mellow so far, knock on wood, except for the inevitable computer problems that occur on any business trip I've ever taken. Is there some kind of special Murphy's-style law for that?

Am in corporate drag. Face painted, hair tidy. But my feet are smelly. I have just realized this. I wore shoes I wouldn't mind getting destroyed by snow but it turns out they are my stinky shoes.

I am being called. Away!
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