Why yes, I do feel like getting my whine on.
I worked this weekend. I had to work a bit Friday while I was at Andrew’s trying to get my laundry done. I worked Saturday evening as a snowstorm blew in.
And what was supposed to be an 8am to 12pm stint of working today turned into a 6am phone call waking me up to tell me the weather sucked and everyone would be working from home, followed by a 7:15am con call to say we were good to start working at 8am, followed by TWO 8am con calls to say again that we were ready to start testing, followed by starting testing… only to become aware of technical issues… which meant testing ended up a couple hours behind schedule, followed by testing starting up but going reeeeeaaaaally slowly for an assortment of reasons, followed by pausing for the noon con call to say we were nowhere near done, and trying to be non-committal about whether we’d be done by 2pm, followed by returning to testing, and things speeding up a bit, followed by not being done at 2pm, followed by becoming a bossy bitch (I actually got called bossy by an adult) to try and keep things moving along, followed by finally finishing up at 3:45pm.
After which I took the quickest shower ever and dressed in time to get on the 4pm con call where everyone acknowledged that we were done and thanked everyone else for their hard work. And then I plastered on makeup and dried my hair as fast as I could, and we were only a few minutes late leaving for Sunday dinner.
I’m really tired, but relatively sane still. I will say that the whiskey I drank earlier was possibly the finest, most therapeutic drink I’ve ever had.