I am not going to be crusty

Even though I have now been at work almost an hour longer than I was supposed to be, and my plans for dinner at Kara's have turned into Matt and Kara eating dinner at their house and bringing dinner to me when I finally get back to the hotel (because I haven't managed to pack anything yet because I am still at work)...

I am not going to be crusty.

Instead, I will say to myself, "Hooray, Erica, it is Friday! You have two days to yourself. You can pack tonight, and you have friends who will help you move into your new house tomorrow. You have a new sheet and comforter set that will look wonderful on your new bed, and your new couch will not be magnetic for cat fur when the fatty mens finally arrive. Rejoice!"

(Now, my happy voice will probably sound a little sarcastic, but that's understandable - I am hungry and tired.)

The Post I want to write you is still in my head

I worked on composing a wonderful entry in my head yesterday as I came back to Faro. I didn't actually get it written down, though, because when we got into town there was a mad rush of "Get the couch and bed into the house, get me and all my groceries back to the hotel, unpack things and squeal with delight at prospect of new things!" There was no time for me to turn on my Computron and write up an entry to post at work where there is internet access.

I am happy, even though I didn't have to time to test-drive a car or go the bookstore (whose very existence right across from Mark's Work Wearhouse fills me with joy) and Mark went to Tim Horton's while I was shopping so I didn't get to buy any freezer Timbits. I'm happy I went, and happy I'm back, and happy that Kara and Matt are helping me move my stuff from the hotel to the house tomorrow - and feeding me dinner to boot! I'd better get crackin' on packin', and on making the promised loaf of banana bread.

That other entry will just have to wait a while.

Going to the Ci-tay!

Maybe this week, maybe next week, I'm not yet sure, but I am going to Whitehorse for a day! Other people may not be that enthused about the prospect (I am looking at you, Kara), but I have not left Faro since the day I got here and, with the craziness of the past week, I am due.

On my ideal agenda? Test-driving a car, buying some new work pants and shoes, a couch (and a bed, but I don't want to go crazygonuts on this), kitchen-y supplies, and maybe some groceries. And timbits. Timbits to share and timbits to put in my freezer. I am getting excited about moving to my new house.

I am never missing a town meeting again, btw. Trying to compile minutes from someone else's notes is much too difficult. If you need me, I'll be in the office, squinting.

Life in a small town

A gal I went to university with made a comment on my Facebook account (in response to my comment about how stressed I was) about how she thought small towns were supposed to be so peaceful.

I thought so, too, until I moved to one, and started a job that planted me right in the middle of pretty much any drama that starts.

Northern Exposure reruns did not prepare me for life in Faro.

Methinks I will be having a pizza tonight, even though I told myself I wasn't going to do that anymore.

I am here right now...

...and so are you, apparently.