Today was one of those days where I sat at my desk, stared at the barrage of e-mails streaming through my Lotus Notes mailbox (yes, Lotus Notes, because I work in 1998), and wonder if I’m being punk’d.  I’m not sure what it was, exactly.  Maybe it was the person who e-mails me daily, spells my name wrong in every. single. e-mail, and isn’t even kidding.  Maybe it was the fact that the bathroom on our floor had flooded by 8:59 a.m.  Maybe it was the fact that for some reason, every time I went to end an e-mail with “Kind regards,” I inexplicably wrote “Kind retards,” and that the more I thought about it, the more likely I was to hit the damn “t” instead of the “g”.  I suppose it really was just one of those days.

Mondays aren’t my favorite.  Thursdays are, however, and this Thursday happens to be my last full day in the office this week, as I’m headed off to the Great White North with my big turkey for his birthday dinner AND to spend Thanksgiving with his family.  AND to have a pumpkin spice latte and stock up on Brita filters at Costco.

Last week, someone asked me why Canada celebrates Thanksgiving in October when the US celebrates in November and really, I don’t have the slightest hint of a clue.  Nor could I provide this individual with any kind of explanation for what Thanksgiving is, or why it is celebrated in the first place, beyond a somewhat pathetic and boring description of various traditional Thanksgiving food.

The lack of knowledge I have about basic Canadianisms is shocking.  I blame this on growing up on Canada’s West Coast, where Canadianisms are less common than, say, Bristish-isms.  I never even uttered my first “eh?” until I’d lived in Ottawa for five years.  And I might have been kidding when I said it.

In other news, we are test-driving a new cleaning lady tomorrow.  My work hours are crazy, and I’ve been having a hard time dealing with the fact that at least half of my weekend free-time has been spent on the house lately.  Enter: Help.  I’m not entirely sure that she speaks English, but she seems to know her way around a Swiffer and has a lovely smile, so I’m hoping all goes well and we’ll be able to rely on a clean house to come home to once a week.  My fingers are crossed.

Time for tea!


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