Happy place

There is a part of my mind where I am still at the local Irish pub enjoying a whiskey and watching Barça pants Real Madrid 2-0 in the Champions League semi-final. Alas, most of it--and my body as well--is in the basement of a master example of sick building syndrome pondering what the payback will be for getting into it with my boss over this year's evaluations. I've got too much ego invested in this nonsense and not enough real sense.

The one ray of hope is that the person in personnel I went to for guidance is totally on my side. She's not permanent in that position yet, but she's the favourite (as incumbents always are) and at least one of the other finalists is--as I can attest from an excruciating Q&A session--a hot mess. Maybe with her in place there will be a shot a fixing a badly broken system? It's slender hopes like these that keep me away from the brink of despair.

At least I got out for a stroll last night while the weather was still what passes for nice. Seems almost every street in the area is further along than ours; I saw magnolia and ranunculus not to far from our own front door. Also, this ugly cold seems to be finally on the run. (I have to watch my words; this time last week, I thought I'd tamed it with zinc only to have it resurge and wreck my weekend.) I've produced so much phlegm in the last few days I think it's enough to build another me.

Now is the time to redouble my efforts to do go to people who are good to me. Chief among them, my sister and monshu. He's having a worse time at work than I am and I'm really stumped for how best to lift his spirits when I drag myself home at the end of the day. This upcoming trip to Toronto can't come too early for either of us.