Well, as expected, "Dr. Hurricane" (aka my boss) blew in and blew out today, and my nervousness at "what will he hit me that I haven't thought of?" is totally gone. Honestly, you'd think I'd have a bit more self-confidence after 7+ years. I was at my Radar O'Reilly best this morning, catching things before he thought of or said them, etc. Except I hadn't anticipated he'd need his cell phone recharger, and it's a good thing the Amtrak to Boston was late which allowed me to hustle across the street to the train station whilst he was still on the platform. So I can now relax, at least until Mrs.-Dr. Hurricane blows in to sign some papers and retrieve his car from our parking lot. Workload still minimal for the moment, building matters re-relegated to my-boss-the-landlord where they belong, and all's bloggy with my world again. So I'm reading Jude at Iddybud, and she passes along this weird conversation snippet from the Daily Kos comments, and even though some of the responses to Kevin Drum's take on this make sense, I find myself agreeing with the speculation that maybe this has something to do with Bush's health... and maybe it's related not only to him deferring his annual physical (no, not the one in 1972, the one this year that Google News doesn't even seem to mention) but to the whole "what's that on his back?" kerfuffle... Meanwhile, it turns out we're all wired for sound, so there, Mr. Smarty-Pants Communist, Mr. Beatnik, Mr. Hippy, Mr... Liberal!
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