I spent today packing, with one suitcase dedicated to Madison, Wisconsin and the others to Seattle.
Why Madison?, you may wonder, unless you're familiar with a little something called Burnman Now, in which case you're too busy thinking "There's a reason why Madison is Madison" and trying to remember the name of that thing that runs down the middle of the highway.
The median! Thank you. Also, hail Jim Utz!
So tomorrow I'm off to Madison -- which I hear is ultra nifty keen -- to attend WisCon. I'll be reading with some of my Clarion West 2005 classmates in Conference Room 2 at 8:45 p.m. on Friday, if you happen to be one of the 1,000 WisCon attendees. And if you happen to be one of my CW 2005 classmates I won't see there -- i.e. if you are Eddie, Edo, Karen, Kris, Mischa, or Stephen -- please know you will be missed.
After WisCon I'll be back in DC for goodbyes and the tying off of loose ends. (Tip: never accept an appointment with the shadow government. Sure, you get to skip those annoying Senate hearings, but when it's time to resign, your boss is always like, "Yeah, but could you do one more thing before you leave? You're gonna to be in Caracas this weekend anyway." And you're all like, "Wisconsin, not Caracas." And he's like, "But could you go to Caracas? Thanks, that'd be great." Stupid shadow government.)
Oh, hey, that reminds me: I mentioned a Dick Cheney sighting a while back. Turns out the undisclosed location is an information booth at a mall / office complex in Arlington, Virginia. Seriously, I see him sitting there at least once a week. He spends most of his time glaring at a computer screen, but every once in awhile he turns his attention to passersby, and he always looks like he wants to stab every last one of them in the eye. Even so, I want to march up to him and ask, "What the hell is wrong with you?!!" 'Cause, you know...it's an information booth.
I must have had a visit from the Malaise-Be-Gone fairy on Friday night, because I woke up this morning ready to spring out of bed and Get. Things. Done.
First up: a sampling from the last three weeks.
Heard PA announcement at Rite Aid: "I need approval." You and me both, sister.
Resolved to mock the Tantallon Country Club for sending me a letter that began:
The most successful private clubs are those built around the foundation of enduring relationships and social camaraderie between friends and associates. With that in mind, we are embarking on a campaign in which we asked our current Members to assist us in identifying individuals whom they felt would properly embrace the culture and tradition of our club and personally invite them to join Tantallon Country Club and one of them picked you.
Mocking Option A: I'm tempted to follow up with this. Maybe I was recommended by the same friend who keeps offering my name as someone who can help transfer funds out of Nigeria.
Mocking Option B: It makes me imagine a building contractor saying something like, "See, there's your problem -- you're supposed to build on the foundation, not around it."
Brought my winter clothes back to Seattle.
Returned to DC.
Successfully fought the urge to create a one-woman mosh pit in my office.
Became pretty sure my wrist wasn't supposed to make that noise.
Consumed the last tablet of 200 in the bottle of ibuprofen I bought during my first week in DC.