I did laundry the other day - lots and lots of laundry. I dumped it on the other half of my queen-size bed and didn't get around to putting it away. It's still there. It's mostly t-shirts, socks, underwear, sweats, that stuff, not stuff that matters if it gets wrinkled.

So apparently they just put somebody in a new position which essentially undermines the very point of my entire workgroup. I hope I don't die. Whatevs. Everybody else is quite furious. We really think that it may be because we've been packed off in the non-HQ building. I think that a good number of people in the department don't even know who I am anymore. I do agree, in a sense: I'd have to work a lot harder if I were in the HQ building.

I should eat more.

I really need a job where they actually give me assignments and projects rather than saying, "Find something useful to do, make it into a project, here's a couple vague things we would like to happen in the next year that we're not sure are possible given what we have." I mean, I can function like that. Especially if I have more tools: I presently have the functional equivalent of duct tape, paper clips, and bubble gum. Soon I might have the equivalent of a decent car with silly putty for fuel and a hope of getting to Japan with it. We don't have any written goals or expectations or measures of our performance, so if I don't manage to cross the Pacific, what then?

It's time for lunch. 11 already passed (war is over, so this is Christmas, etc). It's too cold to eat outside anymore - or is it? Yes, it is. I may do it anyway.

I'm getting bigger.

I want to go home. I'll do the government reporting and then call it a day. Deal!