Manic Monday

Head is spinning, eyes are drooping, staring, glazing over. It's Monday night. I hate Mondays. I'm thankful it at least isn't Sunday night, when I'm just waiting for the horrible next day to arrive, wondering what irritations await me. Now the day has passed and I'm sitting on my couch, obsessing over a letter Richard and I just received from the IRS saying we owe them a LOT of money from 2005. They're wrong, but the fact that they'd eve THINK it, let alone send us a letter demanding THOUSANDS of our hard-earned dollars, is preposterous. It's disturbing. It's ludicrous. And I don't know which set of parents would be most willing and able to loan us money if for some crazy reason we couldn't get out of paying it (I have no pride...but R does).

In other news...I moved offices today. Moved from a closet-sized office on the third floor with no windows in sight to a decent-sized office on the sixth (top) floor with windows and thus sky visible just across the hall. My team of 3 managers also moved with me. It's lovely. Except I don't particularly feel like anyone on the 6th floor wants us up there. We're outsiders, intruders, squatters. But we're friendly enough and sometimes funny and we bring candy so they can't dislike us for long. No, they can. Some of them can. But I'm going to be my nicest me or I'll just hide in my very end-of-the-hall office and never be seen except darting out to get water or go to the bathroom. I have easy access to a staircase.

I think I might be an introvert. I am. I like people I just don't want them to be able to see me and talk to me whenever they want. People tell me I could be a spy. I'm not sure that's a positive thing to tell a woman.

Thank God tomorrow is Tuesday.