Allowing for those little vices

Not that it's so huge a vice, really. Thing is, I don't miss an Academy Awards. Not a chance. Even when I've been working on a night that the Oscars are taking place, I make it a point to see them anyhow. So here I am, watching the damn thing. Yeay. I'm also sick with plague of some kind, so it's not like I'm going anywhere.

Allan Arkin just won for best supporting actor. I'd have yelled for joy, of course, if I could yell. Damn this plague.

Anyway, we're getting another round of snow, but who can say if it'll be much? Besides, it's warm here, indoors, as I bask in the warm television glow. In any case, I'm sure it'll be cold and dismal tomorrow, and I'll end up feeling even more miserable than I already do. Don't care... Oscars are on.

Still, I do have a rant. Why haven't I heard from my project manager on the CD yet? I mean, I've heard from her, but not really. All I got was an email telling me that my materials had arrived safe and sound at their offices, and that they'd be getting back to me in a couple of days to let me know how the design process was going. Well, it's been four days, maybe five... where the hell is my communication from the project manager? I mean, come on! It's been a long road to get here, I've finally gotten the money together to do this thing right, and now I have to WAIT???? What more can the fates ask of me, in my weakened, plague-ridden state, besought on all sides by projects and papers and deadlines and nasal congestion and snow and LACK OF PRINTED AND PRODUCED CDS???

Who cares... Oscars are on.