Madame Bizarro World

Theoretically, we’re all moved in at work. My area is one of the last to be organized. Of course….hey, it’s me!  We have way less room than before, but it’s very nice and way beats the tiny hole in the wall I had in the English department years ago. You’d never have believed I had the financial desk; you’d have thought I was a third-rate office assistant or something. (I still relish the story the person who came two after me told, when she told the chair how much that desk actually handled and if she were going to take it over how many assistants she needed…and how wide-eyed the chair got when he said, Really?!?! Wow, I never knew…  Never did get an apology from him, but at least I got the satisfaction of knowing someone had set him straight on it.)

At any rate, these offices used to belong to women’s athletics, now they’re all ensconced in the fancy-schmancy new north end of DKR-Memorial Stadium, called the N-Zone. *rolls eyes* Over the years, the office areas of Bellmont have become rabbit’s warrens of added walls, etc. We ended up taking several walls out to make the suites more functional.  I don’t have my camera here today, but I’ll try to get pics up sometime.

Obama is on campus today, so the boss is there and I’m taking my lunch at my desk to write….I left Saraswati (that’s my tiny Dell Inspiron) at home, or I’d be writing on it.

The boychile had first day of band camp today. Haven’t texted him yet to find out how it was…but he’s not texting me saying it was hell, either, so I’m assuming it was okay. We had to drop him off early so we could get to work. There was another boy there and they were all ready to wait, but the band director stuck his nose out the door and had them come in.  W had let his hair grow pretty long and I’d already pretty much convinced him to get it cut, but after he went and ran around with his friends last week, shooting Airsoft rifles, we picked him up and he begged to get his hair cut…August in Texas, ya gotta love it. Personally, I could care less how long he grows it, but since he’s starting off at a new middle school and repeating the 7th grade, I really don’t want him labeled one of “those” kids, and you know they will.

Well, I’m off to the loo (I think that’s what that song is really about, skip, skip…skip to my loo, skip to my loo, my darling–yep rapid bathroom trip, for sure), and then working on the supply room that holds about a third of what my old one did. Creative organization (and a large recycling bin)!