Neglectful
OK, so I've been a little neglectful around here for a while. That's mostly because I somehow managed to commit to several major work deadlines within days of one another and have had to severely curtail my leisure time.
By that I mean I only basked/read in the park today for one hour instead of two.
But for real, after all these months of having time, time, massive quantities of sweet sweet time, it sucks to be back under the gun - though it's nothing like those Dartmouth days.
On tap within the next week:
- Draft city addendums for the hazard plan
- Draft action items for the county and all 5 cities
- Updated/revised/presentation-ready risk assessment
- Final Farm to D marketing/advertising materials
- Seasons fundraising invitations for VC
- Final round of logo revisions for the local food bank
- L's pig roast invites
Oh, and then there's that float trip this weekend.
And did I mention my parents will be in town next weekend? And that the weekend after that is Sasquatch?
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Rambling on...
Yesterday the clock was ticking toward the golden five o'clock hour and I was cleaning off my desk and rattling my keys when the phone rang. 4:50 PM. "Sarah? This is M, the city police chief. This is a terrible way to introduce myself, but..."
After I picked up my stomach from the floor and rid my mind of images of my apartment engulfed in flames and let him finish, it turned out he wanted me to speak to the local Lions Club, of which he is a member, the next day. You don't say no to the police chief even if he calls at 4:50 PM, so this morning I freshened up my canned presentation and talked for 30 minutes in front of a room full of people in yellow satin vests festooned with small bright pins.
It's hard to tell if people like these talks - they don't really respond much, and believe me, I'm pulling out all my tricks - talkin' slow with a little drawl, using hand gestures, making jokes about the police chief, cracking on Salem/the West side of the state, etc. It's kind of one of those dancing monkey moments. You just want to get a belly laugh out of those old men, because if you do, you know they'll love you.
But then afterward one man took my arm and pulled me aside and said, "I want to talk to you about joining the Lions Club." I must have looked startled because he gestured to the emptying room and said, "You saw, there's women in the club!" I tactfully gave him my card and told him to call me. This could be interesting.
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In unrelated news, I got to hear some stellar music on Sunday at Z's last real performance in Boise. It was a trio for piano, oboe, and horn.
Classic Z:
S: (on the phone with Z) Hey man, it's 2:45, I just got off the interstate, you still home?
Z: Yup! I was about to take Cali for a walk.
S: Uh, isn't the show at 3?
Z: Uh-huh. I'm not going on til 3:30 though. Why show up early?
(We ended up pulling in about 5 minutes before Z was due to perform. I can't tell you how many times we've blasted through town, on a hurry to something or other, arriving by the skin of our teeth. I will miss this kid.)
Other good Boise things:
+ Hanging out with Cali dog. Officially my favorite dog ever. Nothing like pulling up to your friends' place and having the dog gleefully bound over to say HI HELLO HOW ARE YOU I MISSED YOU LOVE LOVE LOVE.
+ Makin' breakfast for dinner, complete with fancy cheese grits and fresh-made strawberry syrup.
+ Walking by the river on a gorgeous afternoon.
+ Catching flirty vibes from another Boisean, a cute one, getting his number.
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Also good: the various things I made with the catfish I bought last week. Yep, catfish. More on that later.