We're going fishing today. Might as well. It's in the 70s for the first time I can remember. Last night I drank 12 beers at home while L drank endless glasses of wine. Then we went to a bar. The girl at the end of the bar held her head down on the wood as she struggled through whatever conversation was taking through the speaker of her cell phone. I thought she was going to kiss her equally hot friend as they leaned in to argue about whatever bullshit drama they going through.
I feel somewhat better about the project at work. Even though we butt heads and I'm convinced that I'm the only one who knows jack shit about the project and what users will expect despite feeling like I shouldn't think that way, things are working out my way. I'm getting the shit done that needs to get done no matter how much that bitch drags her feet, makes absurd requests then later denies she ever did, and remains clueless about conventional design features. Fuck her.
If this bitch tells me one more time she doesn't understand what I mean when I say Web 2.0 design or schedules another meeting or replies to my email with the one-word response "interesting" I'm going to stuff that picture of her stupid kids and ugly unemployed husband down her throat.
I'm going fishing.