The pangs have begun; withdrawal, denial, then dark anger, an entire winter to consider my loss and rejection. February 7th is a long time away. Must attend to the rending of garments straightaway, though, what with all of the gnashing, wailing, and sackcloth to be donned.

Ahem. Quite.

The Wife had a Girl Scout commitment, so I had the girls for the evening. We had dancing between dinner and bedtime, silly and unembarrassed dancing, since no one was looking. We were treated to a couple of rounds of Kraftwerk, some Depeche Mode, and then they learned how to mosh to Ratt (I canna deny my love for the 80's). XM Radio once again adds to my day. At least the peals of their merry laughter drowned out the questionable lyrics of the Damned. Catchy tchune, though, I mean, if you're into that sort of thing. Not that there's anything wrong with it.

'Twas a meaningful ending to an uneven day. The signature of some workdays is progress made, collaboration, well, collaborated, or even complete wreckage which leaves you stumbling out to the car shell-shocked. All are recognizable and easily filed into their proper slots. Today was filled with aimless switching among the blogs, tapping the bar for another email pellet, and waiting for the shoe to drop on a 'situation'. It did. Order has now been restored and all know their place in the machine.

Sometimes you're the hammer and sometimes you're the anvil.

Tomorrow's efforts will have more purpose, I'm even double-booked for meetings where I'm truly needed. Hurray for the even keel.

Oh, jocularity, why hast thou forsaken us?