I worked a full day at work today for the first time since this summer. It was a good day. I was shooed off of a project before I even expressed interest, but my lunch was delicious. Jen's having a girl. Josh is getting married. Sister Claire is discouraging me from working for tests and grades. And there is inter-office tension in the air that I'm not fully aware of but keep eavesdropping on. (I sit next to the kitchenette now. It's an absolute curse. I miss my old pre-student seat terribly) And oh. The boss called me a cheap date.
(discussing, for the fortieth time, how we got scooped)
Moi: I'm sorry, those guys offered me a hundred bucks for the story. It seemed like a good idea.
Whitecastle: That's right, you're a cheap date.
Moi: Whoa. It was a hundred dollars plus two drinks.
Whitecastle: Oh yeah, that's all you can handle.
Of course, we have the same conversations every week about what classes I'm taking, where the projects are at, and what I studied in college, but drinks, he remembers.
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