Here is my latest weekend update:
Friday night was spent in an almost pleasant company in my friend's house (the one where I usually end up "exchanging ideas"). Almost pleasant, because there was another space cadet from a very long line of space cadets present at the table.
The conversation was revolving around mutual friends and acquaintances (which gave me a peaceful munching time, since I could not care less about that), and then, out of the blue, the space cadet made a joke about a teleprompter, which had to be explained to the hostess. The rest, to use a cliché, is history.
I am not going to recall all the nonsense I was subjected to; I also decided not to "engage", since I am apparently just very entertaining, because I am "so passionate" about it. Basically, the idiotic conversation gave me another glimpse into the psychology of total obliviousness that plagues most of the American-born voters, even educated professionals capable of using their grey matter for tasks other than controlling the functions of the body below the neck.
Which brings me to a dismally rainy Sunday, on which I was hoping to take Mini Me to a long-overdue outing. Alas, that did not happen. I also had no motivation to get out of bed (sorry, sis). Basically, I arrived at Casa Del Munchkins in the afternoon. Inspiration struck on a whim, and I offered an outing to DD, which was met by an exuberant enthusiasm on the part of Her Royal Highness; His Royal Highness had to be coaxed a bit.
On the way there, we sang, observed busses and cars, and also commented on trees in strange colors (otherwise known as trees in bloom). Once inside DD, they were actually well-behaved angels about five minutes longer than originally anticipated (and despite being snubbed by another family with two kids). Each of them got their own serving of iced tea and two different kinds of donuts with sprinkles (from which basically only the frosting and sprinkles were eaten).
After a period of decent behavior, the joy of childhood (plus the consumed sugar) won over, and they proceed to show their extreme exuberance, which included laughing, running around, making faces into the windows, taking pictures of strangers - otherwise known as having plain, clean fun. After about ten minutes of this, they had to be evacuated and conveyed back to Casa Del Munchkins. On the way back, despite the rainy weather, they also managed to have fun, which included playing pick-a-boo through the plastic rain cover, kicking the same said cover, and tussling with each other. Oh, they joys of childhood!
Upon arrival, Mini Me organized a game of hide-and-seek. According to her rules, people hiding are told where to hide, which worked fine for Mini Not Me; in the case of Papi, they had to look for her long and hard, and she did not even have to use lots of imagination (just hide behind the same closet couple of times). Ah, the logic of toddlers!
After that, my sibling expressed a longing for a really creamy Mac-and-Cheese. After I volunteered to cook it, she confessed to locating a recipe and even boiling water (before succumbing to Morpheus). So, yours truly, with an enthusiastic assistance of Mini Me and under a watchful eye and periodic yells of neurotic brother-in-law, managed to concoct a very cheesy and somewhat creamy Mac-and-Cheese. Baby sister was in transports of delight, which in turn left yours truly delighted too.
After that is was bath time, when Her Royal Highness gave Her August Permission to be scrubbed by her humble servant at the accompaniment of our popular "scrubby" song.
Basically, another case of slight exhaustion with a warm fuzzy feeling inside; which, of course, brings us to Monday morning and closing the circle of stupidity that began Friday night.
The usual excitement associated with traveling on public transportation during a rainy Monday morning was compounded by strangely glaring looks of one of our recently promoted Senior Associates. On top of that, big boss decided to sort the mail during my unforgivable absence for a lunch break, which resulted in, among other things, longer process of sorting the invoices and his written instructions to yours truly on the fact that a particular piece of mail did not belong to our office (after he opened it).