Went back to Brooklyn yesterday morning.

I had to clear up something with my bank in person, and because I never bothered to change my home branch, it was back to Park Slope for me! If it had been a nice day it might have been a lovely stroll down memory lane, but it was instead pissing down rain, so it was more a soggy head down dash from the subway.
Down memory lane.

It was strange to be back, though. It sure didn't feel as though it had been four months, but I did notice a couple of new stores on 7th Ave.

Of course it turned out that I didn't have to go to the bank in person after all, and so as to make the trip not such an entire waste of time, I dropped off my colour film at the drugstore.

Why did I do that when I now live in Jersey, you ask?
Why, because this particular drugstore gives you 5x7 prints, that's why! They were hugely impressed when I told them that I had come in all the way from Jersey just for them!

I didn't mention the bank.

So yesterday was "Take Your Kiddies To Work Day" round our way.

All the kidlings were really nice and well-behaved and got fed macaroni and cheese and chicken and french fries (as did some of the adults who snuck into the conference room for scraps).

Luis said "They're having a job workshop this afternoon for them" and I said: "Yeah, so that they understand fully that if they don't do all of their homework and go to a good college, they could end up working here! It's like Scared Straight!"

Then I said to Antoinette, who's father, Floyd, also works at The Company That Must Not Be Named:

"Every day is Take Your Kids To Work Day for Floyd! Are you having a good time today, honey?"

She screamed like a banshee. I have a feeling that I was not the first to utter those deathless words to her yesterday. Nor the last, I'll bet.

Donna's daughter was making the rounds, asking everyone what their name was and what they did and writing it down on a notepad, and when she got to me, her pen all poised, I told her I was a wage slave.

"How do you spell that?"
"W-A-G-E..."

Remember that mean e-mail I was whining about yesterday? Turns out I completely misinterpreted the entire thing and he wasn't being mean and he was horrified that I reacted in such a fashion! And I felt really guilty for being so passive-aggressive that I put it in the journal rather than telling him straight.

I think I may have been just a trifle hormonal yesterday...

One year ago today:
I'm feeling the power, baby...

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Penny Renée Gray!

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Last Updated Thurs 7 May 13:44:09 1998