So things are back to normal at work. My boss came in on Thursday, full of apology. She admitted that the whole thing was her fault, a result of being stretched too thin and overly stressed. Not a reasonable excuse, really, but an apology is an apology–at least in these circumstances it is. We’ve decided on weekly meetings to help keep her in the loop.
I went to an Oscar party at Nicole’s last night. She’s a great hostess. There was lots of food, laughter and puppies. What more could you ask for? I’m afraid I wasn’t the most social thing around, and felt bad for being the first one to leave, but I’d had my fill of being in a room full of people I barely know. I’m pretty sure Nicole understands. At least I hope she does.
The Oscars, by the way, was pretty entertaining. I was happy to see nearly all my favorites win. Philip Seymour Hoffman certainly deserved best actor. And as for Brokeback not winning Best Pic, I’m okay with that. While it tugged at some pretty sensitive places within, it didn’t hit me with as much emotional impact as Crash.
Throughout the whole thing I kept wondering which movies Scott would have liked. He wasn’t one to watch the Oscars–in fact he hated the Oscars–but he did know good films when he saw them. And I’m pretty sure he would have really liked Crash, Brokeback and Capote. I tend to second guess myself with these things. I feel this need to know, this need to be right about something I’ll never know the answer to.
Spring is pretty much here. I’ve gone outside without a coat twice in one week–that’s a sure sign we’re moving into the next season. And things are blooming all over the place. I can barely remember driving to work today; the trip was a sort of connect the dots series of one gorgeous cherry tree after the next.
On the flip side, my writing group will meet again a week from tomorrow. I’m getting pretty anxious (in a ‘crap–what am I going to write’ kind of way). The theme is speed. I’ve no idea what to write. The goal is to write something every day this week (okay, so I just made that up). I need to not think about it and just do it. Writing’s not that difficult. Is it?