It's Wednesday, and should be my busy day, doing last-minute reporting and finishing things up to go to press on Thursday. Instead, I'm leisurely writing one more story today and tomorrow will be a busy day, since I had to nix one story and pick up another one.
It blows when people won't return phone calls. Almost everyone can return phone calls within two days unless they're out of town--or that's my opinion, anyway. The people who are "too busy" to call me for 2 minutes and 37 seconds and explain that it's a bad week, can we maybe reschedule the story are a bunch of jerks. No, you don't have to talk to me. And yeah, you can be busy and everything and tell me to get lost. But at least call me back and TELL me that.
I do a lot of griping, don't I?
Here's some more griping: Lance Armstrong will return to cycling in 2009, coming out of retirement to supposedly up awareness of cancer. Yeah, he's done a bunch of great things for cancer research and support and awareness (remember when everyone wore a yellow Livestrong bracelet? Sometimes I feel like the only one who still does, and then I go to a cancer center and see them everywhere again). But coming out of retirement?
This guy must be BFF with Brett Farve.
On the non-griping side, the Red Sox have at least a wild card berth to the post-season and eliminated the Yankees from playoff contention for the first time since something like 1993 or some time long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away.
That, and I have a Diet Coke with Lime in the fridge. I cannot express my love for this soda.
Three hours, 38 more minutes until America's Next Top Model. Four hours, 38 minutes until Project Runway. My week is always better once I get some Tim Gunn.
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