Um, yeah, that sounds about right

My boss literally wore a riot helmet as he approached my desk. Literally. He peaked out through the plexiglass visor, but didn't speak. The implied plea was clear: "Please don't hit me for what I'm about to do."

He took away my Saturday. Forecasts call for 71 degrees, sunny, and breezy. It's been raining for five straight days. I had a sober weekend of productivity planned.

Our workplace survives on manpower. One piece of that power is a bit accident-prone. She tends to fall over a lot without a lot of explanation. We're told doctors have advised her to take the weekend (regular workdays for her) to recover from her most recent fall. I'm currently checking into the possiblities of contracting with the company that produced the Weeble-People to see if we can borrow some of the technology.

The calender tells me that tomorrow is actually my four-year anniversary here. Four fucking years. And I sit at my desk dreading the story I'm about to air. When the dread subsides, I go back to thinking of Weeble-People technology. Fascinating.

So, tomorrow as the sun dries the soil and the sweetgum trees begin their annual greening, I'll be efforting to make weekend news relevant.

Four years, ladies and gents. That's a long damned time in dog years.