2002-05-07 - 4:00 p.m.

Oh man I know it's really spring (summer, let's be honest) when I get my annual helping of general body sickness, sore throat, head cold, cough, sneezies, etc. On the upside, I don't get sick during winter, so it's a tradeoff.

Earlier today I had a meeting with a computer hardware manufacturer at the W Hotel-Union Square. At the front desk, they told me my company was decidedly not holding court anywhere in their fine, ultra-modernist hotel (complete with wheat grass sprouting from the concierge's desk). So I walked back to the office. I checked my Outlook calendar because in these types of situations, it's my bad 90 percent of the time. But this time I was strangely vilified by Outlook and by the email trail that I double-checked. Called the PR rep's celly. Front desk's fault, apparently. They'll get an earful from her, you bet your firstborn son they will. No, I can't reschedule today. I just can't, I lie. (I can't go out in that heat, those fumes, that midday foot traffic, can't do that same boring walk down 17th St. where I don't even cross the street -- with only a three-dollar pair of H&M sunglasses to protect me from the elements.)

One of those days. At least this way I'll actually get magazine work done. As opposed to what other type of work that I'm supposed to be doing? Exactly.

Ugh. I'm thinking bad thoughts today about tons of different stuff. Compounded by the fact that another of my co-workers put in her two weeks, which can only mean bad things for the state of my job. Rats from a sinking ship.

Delete this entry? Damn close...sorry.

XOX,

triz

Oh wait, I actually do have fun news: Ikea trip was Ik-easy! Out to Elizabeth, N.J. on the free dog from the Port Autority, in and out in less than an hour. Came back with a $40 shelf that holds 220 CDs, a $2.50 rug, three $.50 pint glasses, a $8 desk lamp, maybe something else. Nami got almost as much crap. Good stuff all. Thank you, foreign-based manufacturing!

And Sunday, when I took my laundry to the 'mat for my semimonthly wash, I realized something very important: the Pistons were playing the Celtics, and NBC was good enough to televise the contest of wills! So you know I didn't do any alphabetization of CDs like I had originally planned during my laundry downtime at home. Nope. Instead I watched Clifford Robinson's carnival-like shooting performance, and J. Stack "mess around" en route to almost snagging that triple-double. Then right after the game I fried up some falafel and G-trained it up to Queens for Simpsons and Beer Garden in Astoria.