One year to go

Not that I'm counting.

Reality deferred

Thursday was the boss’s birthday. We had bagels for breakfast, went out for lunch, and had chocolate raspberry cake in the afternoon. All together, I probably did about four hours of work yesterday. Oh, and we’re still doing the "official" birthday lunch sometime next week since this week is busy.

A while ago, the boss asked if I wanted to stay on for another year. At first I thought she was kidding, but it became apparent that she wasn’t. With my pickiness (and procrastination) in the job search, election year uncertainty deferring much government hiring and a looming recession cramping private sector hiring, I realized: why would I give this up? I like my job, it is pretty cushy, and it pays reasonably well. And I actually like my boss. Those are four things most people can’t say about their job.

So I’m staying. I agonized and flip-flopped a bit over the decision, but in the end it really was a no brainer. What’s another year in la-la land?

Fashion police

I'm not a fashionista, but I know that a man should never wear white socks with slacks and dress shoes. Knowing this basic rule, I was horrified this morning when I realized that I forgot to pack a pair of dress socks in my gym bag. I was forced to wear my dirty (but still bright) white athletic socks to work.

I tried to convince myself that it wasn't noticeable, but with every step a bright white band flashed between my cuff and shoe. And today, since we're on duty, many bright flashes filled our lobby as I greeted the people delivering search warrants, pen registers, and probation reports. I felt like a dork.

Shallow

I bought a pair of hiking boots today. I'm excited as I have been wanting a new pair for a while. Some Christmas gift certificates finally motivated me to get a pair to break them in before my trips in February and August.

As I was sending a thank you note to the people who gave me the gift certificate, a friend forwarded this article about John Granville, the USAID diplomat who was murdered in Khartoum, Sudan earlier today. I was in the Peace Corps with John; he was in the education group a year ahead of me. While we weren't great friends, we were friends and our paths crossed for the year our time in the Cradle of Our Fathers overlapped. I remember him best for the Cameroon art import business he tried to start once he returned to the U.S.

I feel shallow.