everybody's working for the 3-day weekend

Thought I'd take you on a low-rez, built-in Macbook camera photo journalistic journey of what it's sometimes like to work where i work. Sometimes it's awesome. Sometimes I'm tired and it's 8:30 pm and the last thing I need is a construction crew within arm's reach of my desk, raising the decibel level to brave new heights and spitting diesel fumes in my face.





If I was looking for a good excuse to leave and finish up at home, i found it. I stuck it out until the fumes started making me hack. That took 2 minutes. If I develop cancer anytime in the next 75 years, call Erin Brockovich and get me my check.

The humor was found when I remembered a colleague sitting next me told me earlier that day she liked our Miami office better because it's not so disturbingly quiet there. I asked her if she'd care to revise her statement for the record.

The construction is 24/7, but the loud, front end loader stuff is reserved for us oompa loompas working what the rest of the business world calls "after-hours." They're building a mezzanine level all the way around the whole interior of the building to provide twice and many offices and little conference rooms. When complete, there will even be 4 fire poles for quick access to the first floor without having to use those archaic stair-thingamaboogers. Optimistic thinking conjures up day dreams of being placed in one of those offices so I can justify bringing annie to work. It would be fun to chill with her all day if I had an office to keep her exploratory tendancies under wraps.

Alas, I digress. I'm off.