Please respond by 13 Feb.
Please return comments to me by 09 Feb.
Due date is 12 Feb.
Please send to publishing by 11 Feb.
Return comments to your functional area head by 10 Feb.
And so it goes. Deadlines, timelines, due dates galore, and in the middle of the mini-maelstrom is Tiff, struggling to keep too many things straight. In addition to the regular-schmegular ol' workly chaos, I also have to formulate answers to yearly performance evaluation questions so that my boss can put together a promotion package on my behalf.
OK, a possible promotion good news, but not a guaranteee that I WILL be promoted. I hold out hope that inspiration will strike and I’ll be able to come up with ways I’ve been a good company steward and how I’m all innovate-y and the times I took the lead on a project and added value and consequently didn’t throw the baby out with the bus whilst going pear-shaped.
If you have any really hot-shot corporate lingo that might look good on these answers, feel free to send them my way. I have the addle on me and as such am not able to activate Corporate Tiff at full strength.
Last night on the ride home (in the dark, for it was 6:30-ish), there was a vast orange glow in the eastern sky. Clouds were lit up, arcing across the horizon, the center of the incandescence was a brilliance that seemed like it must have been coming from large house fire.
But no, it was the moon. Gigantic, hanging low over the land, illuminating the atmosphere with the colors of embers, a red-gold sweep of lunar light. If I hadn’t been driving, I would have been struck stone still by the awesomeness of the sight.
I called Biff, all excited, and told him to go look at the moon, go LOOKATIT, and being a good man he did, but could not see it.
Not see it? It was lighting up a great chunk of the sky! It was boiling the clouds, throwing bronze shadows, it was HUGE and grand and majestic! How could he NOT see it?
He could not, because our house is in a little bottomland, and my privileged view came only at the tops of the hills as I commuted along Route 98. The little bit of elevation took my view just barely over the top, so to speak, from where I could take part in a once-in-a-lifetime occasion.
For a moment I thought that perhaps the moon had come loose from its path and was careening toward us, and that the onrush of destruction was preceded by this wonderful view. To be struck dead by fierce beauty, what a thought. Fortunately, the moon stayed put in tis habitual path; it rose, decreased in apparent size and candlepower, and by the time I got home it was a mere full moon rising. Still beautiful, of course, but not the astounding, mildly frightening apparition of a mere 20 minutes earlier.
I was sorry Biff missed the show, and sorrier still that I had no means to capture the moment for him, and also for you, dear readers, because it struck me almost speechless. Even now, 16 hours later, my mind boggles at just how magnificent this little corner of our universe really is.
Just thought you ought to know. Have a wonderful day y'all.