So, some mild kerfuffling on the periphery of the old flist, some misbehavior, nasty humor, and hurt feelings, and I'm ALMOST bored enough to search out the hap, but not quite. Today I was supposed to go in to work to finish some skills updates we worked on last week (an epic clusterfuck in its own right, in which we had a "quick review" of a whole bunch of critical care techniques that I HAD NEVER EVEN HEARD OF, and my assistant nurse manager kept looking at me like "wtf are they TALKING ABOUT??" which made me giggle and Get Looked At), but I woke up at about the time I was supposed to be there, so maybe not. Surprisingly, I never quite made it to the cleaning yesterday, so maybe I'll do that today (right), and the writing? Yeah. You know, those 78 words of porn I forced on copracat in yesterday's entry took me, like, AN HOUR to come up with, and I seem to have lost the will to invite that kind of pain, even though Chris and JC are totally fucking in my head 24/7. Is most frustrating. Let us not speak of the remix story, either. I am bleh.
callsigns posted some FABULOUS pictures of Chris last night, from his Superbowl party. Damn, he is looking fine. Healthy! And happy! As it should be. Good.
Oh, before I run off, why is everybody so bummed by this? Didn't strike me as catty at all, and believe me, I have a hypersensitive delight in all things catty. Just seemed like a good dose of Justin, to me. A little bit snarky (Lance is going to the moon, heh), a little bit clumsy (that's our boy!), and a whole lot evasive. Justin? You're cool. Now get your ass to Chicago in July and it's all good.