there ain't much to report.
alternately, there's so much to report that i can't look at the keyboard without needing a stiff drink, and then getting distracted by some shiny new thought and entirely forgetting to come back and write.
september, despite some dark days (in the single digits, thankfully) is almost through, and despite my fear and trepidation, there hasn't been a repeat of last two years' emotional debacles. i keep on keeping on, and all that shit. fingers crossed, wood regularly knocked on, natürlich.
i was given a hint of a possibility of moving back to the third floor by bossman and immediately put the kibosh on that - the last few months have found me bonded for life (well, the 8-4:30, mon-fri portion of it anyways) with my fourth floor posse, "the johnsons". the neighbouring landscape architects continue to evade eye contact for the most part, though some have fallen prey to my indomitable charm and tenacity. some even say hello of their own free will!
my biggest challenge of late (read: since work began) is unprecedented: getting some sort of manageable work-life balance. my previous iteration as a dental demi-goddess had none of these issues - when work finished for the day, it was finished. overtime and deadlines were things of which i had no inkling, other than in a purely academic sense. well, it's a trade-off, innit? now i'm surrounded by people with whom i can have real conversations,* doing something that i give a shit about, and enjoying all the social side benefits (food truck events, scavenger hunts followed by pub nights, boozy barbecues, etc.). still, my cooking/exercising/down time have suffered, and i've taken september as my Month To Fix Myself. so far, so good.
heading off to a breast cancer fundraiser momentarily, where i shall hang with co-workers, dance to a live blues band, and likely drink too much. life is good.
over and out.
*granted, sometimes they are conversations that end with "nobody wants to see monkey genitalia " but still...