Head, meet desk

Busily working through my negative exponentials, looking at the pretty brightly colored graphs (I think my favorite part of science might just be the pretty pictures), I started assembling conclusions for the paper I’m writing. But wait… these numbers just won’t do. I skipped a step way back at the beginning, and now must start over.

Pardon me while I bang my head into my nice oak desk for a few minutes.

What’s worse, I realized this morning that in the the fuss over the work stuff that has to get done this week and won’t, leaving for Pennsic on Friday, the incipient visit of my inlaws, and the new dogsitter, I did not call my mother last night. I’ve known for decades that July 30 is her birthday, and yet…

Mom, I’m dreadfully sorry. I am in possession of a blank card with the words “Happy Birthday” written on the cover, as yet unwritten and unmailed. I am in possession of a working telephone that I did not use. (I also have some pretty but useless graphs of negative exponential distributions that I could send you.) Come visit and I’ll buy you apologetic Farmer’s Market flowers! And I’ll call you tonight. I mean it this time! I probably won’t send the card, though.

It is not my week in many other ways. Nick called me this morning to inform me that we’d forgotten to turn on the dehumidifier in the basement, and, in his words, “I didn’t know some of those things could grow mold.” Lovely.

If I finished two projects, I could go on vacation happy and relaxed, and return to work without major deadlines looming. When I made this plan a month ago, it seemed quite achievable. Heh. Neither one will be finished, of course. But neither is going on vacation with me.

One very large thing has gone right, though. I got word today that my professional review was successful, and I am to be promoted. Hooray!

I was sorting through some old photos recently, and came across a few worth sharing. Here’s the first, demonstrating very clearly who was in charge in my house, and who wasn’t.

Though Ghost the Boss hasn’t lived in my house for a year and a half, she’s still very much present. That’s right, I’m haunted by the Ghost Ghost. Nick and I frequently hear the distinctive sound of a cat jumping onto the kitchen counter, while Morgan is firmly ensconced on the couch. Or we’ll see a black shadow slipping away silently, while Morgan and Grendel are at the other end of the room.

Ghost was the advance scout for the alien invasion force, here to spy on us and report back, so it’s no wonder that she is still keeping an eye on things. I’m just happy she likes me!