I feel so mainstream. After a several minute stream of attempting to teach me to do proper grown-up pushups again, Dave's demonstration turned me on in a massive way.
Granted, I was lying under him getting upside down kissed with every "push".
Mmmm. Some things really are universally sexy -- in the mooovies and halfway into our hallway from the bedroom.
Last night's romantic hackerish evening is getting me way in over my head on a new project at work.
It might turn out to be the most radical change that this place has ever undergone, though, and the thrill of it being mostly my fault so far still supercedes the realization of how hot a spotlight that big can get.
Or as a coworker at the last place I caused this much trouble put it -- I was born to be a star.
The kind responsible for black holes.
The australian contingent of our team used to work as a garden landscaper.
Political arguments over tea-steeping in the kitchen turned into scrap-napkin doodles of our front and back yard.
Connie pointed out something very clever about the grass situation out front.
The australian contingent promised to take me for a walk at lunch next week because she knows a secret garden in the middle of downtown skyrise Toronto that she's sure will inspire me.
Then she threatened to come over and order me around until I get the idea.
The sun is so bright today, and my meeting with the board liaison went so smoothly, that I've almost forgotten how many faces won't see tomorrow's sun.
Almost. And on top of it, my insides are stronger than they've been in a long time, thanks to that sun -- the one outside and the one that shines in all the faces that I am surrounded by.
Me, the flakey shit disturber with the hair and spirit on fire.