Feb. 14th, 2002

semperfiona: (Default)
From my user info page: Journal entries: 203. That's in not quite three months. I guess I'm pretty talkative when left to my own devices.
semperfiona: (Default)
Everything's done. Everything's done. It was one hell of a long day: I went over at 10:30am, left at 10:30pm. My friend Christine, her husband Kirk (yeah, a different one, same name), and her ex Jim all came and helped me in the evening, but the daytime I worked alone, scraping up tarpaper from the kitchen floor.

My back is aching from bending over, and my hands are covered in blisters from pushing the chisel. Yes, I know, maybe I should have used gloves. But I thought they would make it chafe worse.

We got the carpet from the stairs and hallway torn out, the ugly plastic tread covers that were under it removed, all the quarter-round moldings off, and the fridge moved out of the way.

I think the house is going to look absolutely gorgeous when they're done, you can see a hint of it now. And it should be much brighter, too, without dark floors and dark carpets.
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Wow. I hadn't realized just how frustrated I am with work until now. I'm working on this great new project, and everything should be nifty cool, but I feel so far behind everyone else, I can't figure out what I'm supposed to do with my assignment, and no one's giving me a direction. I just ranted about this for several minutes and basically got told to go ask questions. I feel like someone ought to come to me!

I was nearly in tears just talking to him, and had to come back here to my desk, where the tears have in fact come, in order to settle myself before I can do anything else.

Oh my god!

Feb. 14th, 2002 06:58 pm
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I just stopped by my house on the way home from work, to see how the work was progressing. I hadn't intended to, but someone at work asked me, "Don't you want to make sure they came, and see how it's going?" I did.

It looks wonderful! And all they've done so far is sand off the old cruddiness down to bare wood!
semperfiona: (Default)
"We are censored by the fall of Babel,
by the confusion of tongues.
Oh, let us confuse our tongues in a kiss."
-- "Censorship," Julia Vinograd

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