Stitched up

So today, my second day back at work after two months' vacation, I come in to find Steve, my direct manager, he of the getting me horrendously drunk on Friday nights last year (until I stopped drinking with him so much), has put me on front counter. Which means I'm dealing with the public, answering phones and counter, and I can't use AIM (which works again, since they updated us to XP while I was away. At least until the techies notice the amount of online time I'm using and firewall me again). And no-one's answering email, which means a Bored Rossi.

*pouts* The more things change...

Still, I'm having my petty revenge by inflicting my music taste on Steve, who is on counter duty with me. Now to find something I have he doesn't like...

That explains it

I was wondering why I was feeling out of sorts and cranky this evening, despite walking partway home on a wonderfully sunny day, a home cooked meal for the first time in ages and getting my bike ready for riding tomorrow. Well, besides the fact I was on the front counter.

Yep, time for that not-so-wonderful biological function women tend to have to put up with until menopause. Which isn't anywhere on the horizon yet, dammit. Think I'll take myself to bed shortly and be grumpy there.