That's three pissed kitties
Feb. 26th, 2008 04:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stephbgThe Ceiling Squirrels, as they shall henceforth be known (for they are small and industrious) arrived this morning and have been propping and restrapping to visible effect.
They even said nice things about our furniture movements and coverage, so it's good to know that effort wasn't wasted. When I came home they were an impressive shade of red from the heat (Red Squirrels are pretty), so I turned on the aircon so they could give themselves a faceful of cold air occasionally by disconnecting a duct. And hopefully reconnecting them afterwards.
Red and white striped, to be more precise, having wallowed in plaster all day whilst stripped to the waist. And sweaty, and lean and fit and muscled and...
Ahem. Lovely lads.
The kittens were restricted to the master bedroom/bathroom which is much newer than the rest of the house and thus unsagging. The kittens were unimpressed with this arrangement. The carpet by the door has had some attention of the cheese grater variety. Even Pumpkin looked distinctly disgruntled, and he's usually got a lot of grunt in the tank to discharge. Princess wailed pathetically, which is pretty much par for the course, and I found Cally cowering under the bed, looking much smaller and more wibbly than usual. The wound looks OK, and this morning's antibiotics went in without a hitch. Thirteen doses to go.
Once the door was opened, however, it took them a while to figure out they were free. Dim kitties.
Work
I got a bit of a reality check at work today. My main client is sponsoring a major high-level mining business conference, and we have to put together booth, presentation and marketing materials in about three weeks. Um, we don't have that kind of thing just lying about (at least not in the subtle and specific flavours required for this particular conference), so much organisation is required. By someone. *looks ceilingward*
It felt good to be badgering people for lists and responsibilities again, although we spent a surprising amount of time discussing the pros and cons of company shirts: business vs polo; short sleeve vs long sleeve; white vs light blue vs logo blue; business pitch vs site visit/tech demo.
I eventually had to *stop* the boys talking about shirts after they started complaining about fitting, but it was reassuring to know that males sometimes have the same sort of clothing problems as les femmes. Apparently collar sizes and sleeve lengths never correspond to reality. Fancy that. Try buying trousers when you're shaped like a certain low-salicylate fruit (if peeled). I remained uncharacteristically quite at this point.
I haven't had to pull out the marketing hat for quite a while, but I believe I managed to bull my way through the meeting appropriately. It got fairly earthy and if you want to be fussy, *rabidly* sexist, but I rather enjoyed giving it back and teasing the expensive male consultant about wearing stillettos (through his skull) and fun and games with hamsters, gaffer tape and topless skimpies. Ah, the realities of the modern mining business world. I threatened both consulatant and CEO with stabbing-by-pen. All innocent fun.
I did project a bit of a chill at the mention of menopause, but I completely forgot to respond with "None of your damnned business!" when asked if I had any children. I think we covered all the traditional bases, although when someone tried to refer to me as Ms I insisted on Mrs. Breasts were mentioned, but not mine.
Unfortunately this session went on through "lunch" and in lieu of daintily passing out under the table I was forced to publicly crunch my way through some emergency celery, not having anticipated being in town that long (the meeting was originally scheduled for 9:30 but didn't start until 11:30 - now there's a reassuring start to the project). I really don't care if they thought I was on some kind of stupid Women's Weekly diet.
I'm actually looking forward to having something a bit more stimulating to do at work. It should make it a bit easier to get back to speed.
Given the next few weeks I'm probably not going to attempt any dietary challenges until after Swancon, for I cannot risk the effects of success. *wakes from two day coma and notes to never eat anything coloured purple again*. I'm not looking forward to the traditionally difficult Swancon hotel room self-catering task sans microwave. There's always celery. I'm being stalked by celery. Get it off me.
What this does for the planning schedule for The Anxious Penguin Hour, well, hmmmm. Chaos is funny, right? Right? RIGHT? Well, it's traditional, at the very least.
They even said nice things about our furniture movements and coverage, so it's good to know that effort wasn't wasted. When I came home they were an impressive shade of red from the heat (Red Squirrels are pretty), so I turned on the aircon so they could give themselves a faceful of cold air occasionally by disconnecting a duct. And hopefully reconnecting them afterwards.
Red and white striped, to be more precise, having wallowed in plaster all day whilst stripped to the waist. And sweaty, and lean and fit and muscled and...
Ahem. Lovely lads.
The kittens were restricted to the master bedroom/bathroom which is much newer than the rest of the house and thus unsagging. The kittens were unimpressed with this arrangement. The carpet by the door has had some attention of the cheese grater variety. Even Pumpkin looked distinctly disgruntled, and he's usually got a lot of grunt in the tank to discharge. Princess wailed pathetically, which is pretty much par for the course, and I found Cally cowering under the bed, looking much smaller and more wibbly than usual. The wound looks OK, and this morning's antibiotics went in without a hitch. Thirteen doses to go.
Once the door was opened, however, it took them a while to figure out they were free. Dim kitties.
Work
I got a bit of a reality check at work today. My main client is sponsoring a major high-level mining business conference, and we have to put together booth, presentation and marketing materials in about three weeks. Um, we don't have that kind of thing just lying about (at least not in the subtle and specific flavours required for this particular conference), so much organisation is required. By someone. *looks ceilingward*
It felt good to be badgering people for lists and responsibilities again, although we spent a surprising amount of time discussing the pros and cons of company shirts: business vs polo; short sleeve vs long sleeve; white vs light blue vs logo blue; business pitch vs site visit/tech demo.
I eventually had to *stop* the boys talking about shirts after they started complaining about fitting, but it was reassuring to know that males sometimes have the same sort of clothing problems as les femmes. Apparently collar sizes and sleeve lengths never correspond to reality. Fancy that. Try buying trousers when you're shaped like a certain low-salicylate fruit (if peeled). I remained uncharacteristically quite at this point.
I haven't had to pull out the marketing hat for quite a while, but I believe I managed to bull my way through the meeting appropriately. It got fairly earthy and if you want to be fussy, *rabidly* sexist, but I rather enjoyed giving it back and teasing the expensive male consultant about wearing stillettos (through his skull) and fun and games with hamsters, gaffer tape and topless skimpies. Ah, the realities of the modern mining business world. I threatened both consulatant and CEO with stabbing-by-pen. All innocent fun.
I did project a bit of a chill at the mention of menopause, but I completely forgot to respond with "None of your damnned business!" when asked if I had any children. I think we covered all the traditional bases, although when someone tried to refer to me as Ms I insisted on Mrs. Breasts were mentioned, but not mine.
Unfortunately this session went on through "lunch" and in lieu of daintily passing out under the table I was forced to publicly crunch my way through some emergency celery, not having anticipated being in town that long (the meeting was originally scheduled for 9:30 but didn't start until 11:30 - now there's a reassuring start to the project). I really don't care if they thought I was on some kind of stupid Women's Weekly diet.
I'm actually looking forward to having something a bit more stimulating to do at work. It should make it a bit easier to get back to speed.
Given the next few weeks I'm probably not going to attempt any dietary challenges until after Swancon, for I cannot risk the effects of success. *wakes from two day coma and notes to never eat anything coloured purple again*. I'm not looking forward to the traditionally difficult Swancon hotel room self-catering task sans microwave. There's always celery. I'm being stalked by celery. Get it off me.
What this does for the planning schedule for The Anxious Penguin Hour, well, hmmmm. Chaos is funny, right? Right? RIGHT? Well, it's traditional, at the very least.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-02-26 08:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-26 12:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-26 03:22 pm (UTC)...although when someone tried to refer to me as Ms I insisted on Mrs. Breasts...
no subject
Date: 2008-02-26 11:03 pm (UTC)