Can I Please Speak To...

Hey folks. First things first. You'll notice that the page shouldn't take as long to load now. I've changed the format of the posts so that each one appears on it's own page. Which means that if you've missed a few days you'll need to click on archive links to the left of this post to catch up. Which means you're not checking regularly for new posts and, er...whattup with that?

And how 'bout those comments? Oh yeah. Those.

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Just a regular day for me. Sort of. Sort of the third day of training for my new job. WHAT? I didn't tell you I got a job? Yes, I am now employed...by someone or some persons other than my children.

I'm working for a company the does lead generation for other companies. I am, in effect, checking the pulse of potential customers to see if there is any interest in hearing from the people who really know what the hell they're talking about. I will be paid based on the number of customers who are willing to talk to the product geeks.

It's glorified telemarketing, if you ask me, and that frightens me a bit. If there's such a thing as phone kharma, I believe that there'll be a lot of people telling me to go fuck myself and hanging up on me. And that won't be good for my bottom line.

*****

Let's see, what else?

We saw our first snow flakes of the year today. It was right after Jack (*) left for school, so Maggie and Libby were still in their pajamas. They rushed into their boots and out into the front yard to catch snow flakes on their tongues. Isn't so precious? And shouldn't there be pictures of such cuteness on my brand, spankin' new blog? Yes, there should...but I'm a moron and didn't think of it until the blizzard was over.

The blizzard. We had about 20 flakes. And Maggie and Libby were PISSED that they didn't have a snow day (**). It was a balmy 37 degrees farenheit today and I still had to threaten the girls with severe punishment (sitting on their beds watching me vacuum maybe) if they didn't wear their winter coats to school.

Why is that? Why do kids not feel the cold? I think it's just weird. And goes totally against my dressing-for-winter policy I adopted when they were babies. If they weren't sweating, they weren't warm enough.

Maybe I ruined them. Maybe their internal thermostats are permanently damaged from overheating. Whatever. Just add that to the long list of issues their therapists will have to clean up later.

(*) I've given up on the pseudonyms. I'll enter the witness relocation program if anyone figures out where to find them...or me.

(**) A snow day, for the South Africans, is when there's too much snow to go to school. It doesn't happen often, but when it does it's like a gift from the weather gods.