Drive-by updating

Goodies that cost me money I don't really have:
I have a new couch! It even has arms and can seat more than two people and is made of a material that... Well, it resembles corduroy, which if you knew me ten years ago would amuse you to no end as I used to villify the stuff as a concoction of Satan. I HATED the stuff. The texture, the sound it made when you walked in it, it even came in crappy colors.

Now I have a couch made of it. Consistency is the defense of small minds. Like many things, I'm learning to let it go.

Work:
The Mid-Boss has arrived and, well, not much else so far as I can see. I met him when the Overboss brought him along on a checking-up trip. Since then, I haven't really seen, heard or sopke to him since. Hopefully he's busy elsewhere and will leave us alone.
Also, I lost my Minion. I really liked having a Minion, I was able to focus on helping the Bosses get stuff out the door, now I'm back to focusing on keeping enough space on my desk clear for my coffee mug.

Play:
The show's going, um, well I suppose. Dress rehearsals are going to be REALLY rough. And somewhere along the way I made the mistake of volunteering to make stuffed mushrooms for our little buffet...
The real hell of this is that it's been basically three (occasionally four) of us putting this together. The rest of the production team's been in/out of town and hasn't really been there, and most won't be there for the performances.
Next show I think we're setting some ground rules.

Ramdomness:
Outside of the office building there is a cricket (not this one) that keeps jumping into the glass and bouncing off.
Jump. Bounce. Jump. Bounce.
I don't know if it's the heat on the sidewalk (as I imagine the hedge it was living in was much cooler), the reflection in the glass, or just a short circuit in the lil' guy's insectile excuse for a brain, but it was really pathetic to watch.
Jump. Bounce. Jump. Bounce.
Really pathetic to watch, actually.
Jump. Bounce. Jump. Bounce.
And kinda boring, too, come to think of it.
Jump. Bounce. Jump. Bounce.
And because I'm just hypnotized enough by the incessant hopping to form paltry excuses for philosophical metaphors, I thought, "Sometimes you're the cricket, sometimes you're the glass."
Photo from Hampshire Hippy via flickr