Another long day of work took me out of the mix. I feel like a Pat McCurdy song. Wake up, go to work, get drunk, go to sleep. But I don't get to take in the "get drunk" part as much. Instead I "get to work more at home". Boss keeps telling me I have to get more done. It isn't like I am not busy, just that I am not in constant contact with him.
I tried to explain that I can only get so much done at the office. After 9 or so hours in the office there is little more I can do efficiently. I need to get out and get some exercise. I have explained that many a time. But what he sees- from the West Coast- is that I leave at 4. It doesn't matter that I work a couple more hours at home like everyone else is doing. He doesn't see the hours I have to drive in to work because certain items cannot leave the premises. It is that extra hour I am not at the office where he can call in a panic to get an answer he should know but can't navigate a system to get. I guess I will compromise towards 4:30 or 5. Not 6 like he would like. They don't pay me enough nor give me recognition or thanks to work insane hours in this place.
But enough of the bitching. I happen to look forward on the map to things coming up. This Friday is a wedding. I have a bad feeling about this one. My gut tells me it could be a snoozefest. The groom is a good friend but his parties are boring. I hope I am wrong.
Summerfest has some interesting artists playing. I had seen that Billy Squier was coming. The other day I saw Judas Priest will be playing. This morning I see that the Offspring will be there on the first Friday. Just enough to keep me interested this year.
Down the line, I see Metallica is playing the Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas on December 5. That looks to be right around the time I usually go down there. Steel Panther on Friday, Metallica on Saturday. Can Vegas get better?
And Opening Day is only 17 days away. I may not have tickets for the Brewers game but I am concocting an alternative. Either which way I will have to make sure my keys end up in the hands of a designated driver.