The Week

I'm having the kind of week that makes me wonder what I did in a past life. In addition the the Unethical Lunatic With No Perspective tormenting me at Day Job, I've had a string of poor luck: Tuesday, my desk lamp with the Happy Bulb* took a nose dive off my desk, shattering said Happy Bulb; Wednesday, I slipped on ice (painfully) bringing the mail in; this morning, my travel mug took a digger off the roof of my car, pouring my would-be tea (my one morning consolation) out all over the ground.

I've been very weepy.

I've also been contemplating the best quick, painless death for the Unethical One. I've decided that electrocution in the bathtub would be ideal. A victimless crime. I hope that karma will mete out her just desserts quickly, as I'm in no position to add "hitman" to my resume when already so busy. (Other contenders: bullet in crossfire, stepping on a rake, incorrectly labeled medication, new shellfish allergy.)

But, as dear Eric pointed out in an email today (presumably sent during a quick breather while running away from ethnomusicologists): 30 Rock is on tonight. Laugh therapy.



*full-spectrum, to chase away winter blues