I'm still waiting on an updated itinerary from Expedia.com for our Christmas flights to California. I tried to look it up online earlier this week, and got a message that the itinerary had been changed and I had to call Expedia direct to find out what was going on. Turns out the bumped me to a later flight. Not much I can do about it, but it means I'm going to have to cool my heels at the airport for an extra hour now. grumble
The carrier I'm flying is having severe fiscal problem, it would appear. With my luck, they'll go out of business a few days before I'm due to fly out. I could handle them going out of business while I'm in California. Nobody would begrudge me the extra vacation days if my airline went out of business and left me stranded. But I won't be that lucky.
The Professor's big Three-Oh happens on the 19th of this month. I was surprised to discover that he's really in the doldrums about this. At first I thought he was joking. He isn't the kind to take age seriously (I thought). After all, he's hooked up with someone fifteen years his senior. I've never really gone through any "milestone" birthday angst, so I didn't expect that he would either. It took me a little too long to realize how wrong I was, and I don't think delayed understanding helped his situation any. Even now I'm having a hard time giving proper sympathy as required. The concept of considering thirty the end of life as we know it just a little too alien to be able to empathize appropriately.
I've finally gotten approval for the repairs to my car that were caused a couple of weeks ago when one of my animal charges escaped and ran headlong into the front fender (see entry on Oct 18th for the gory details, such as they are). Damages turned out to be around $350.00; my company will be covering the entire thing. I'm spending an additional $100 to get some other work done on the car while it's in the shop. The Professor is already giving me grief about having to take me to work and pick me up. He's doing one of those pretending to be annoyed about it when he really is annoyed numbers. I never knew ANYONE who hated to get up early as much as this man does. I may save him and myself some grief and just walk to work. Fifteen minutes to half an hour's worth of walking solo seems far more pleasurable than five minutes of non-stop bitching.
And somebody around here has been cleaning out my University of Pennsylvania apothacary candy dish over night. I don't mind them taking candy from it ... that's what it's on my desk for. But sheesh - when the office candy starts getting more expensive than the office coffee, it's time to reevaluate the situation.