I've been trying to come up with a creative way to spin what was last week, but to no avail. So, here's the deal. I had a weird week. As a matter of context, I spent the majority of the week in depositions while Beto was in Brazil.
Tuesday morning, after suffering a night of insomnia and before backing my car into our neighbor's stone retaining wall, my mom's dog Cosmo bit me in the jugular. That's right - a canine throat-punch with crooked teeth. My initial concern was the embarrassment I'd suffer in heaven when the mean kids circulated my obituary which described how I bled out on my bed next to the villainous 12 pound great white carpet shark. (Don't ask me how it is mean kids get to heaven... adrenaline tends to blur reasonable thought.) Upon realizing that Cosmo's tiny little impaling death grip didn't puncture the main vein, my next concern was how to convince the people in my deposition that no, it was not a hickey, and yes, it's true I was bitten by a dust mop. No luck on that one, even though there were four or five clearly distinct bright red teeth marks.
So, on the way in to work, after backing my car into our neighbor's stone retaining wall, I received an urgent call from my assistant to the effect of "Um, the woman you are supposed to depose is freaking out in the elevator lobby on 19 because she's terrified of heights. She won't move, she's yelling and the receptionists want to know what to do."
Okay. Well, if I were afraid of heights, I'd consider that before pressing the button for the 19th floor in the elevator that travels only to floors 15-30. But who am I to judge? So, after offering a few alternatives including the one in which the panic-stricken woman's attorney would handle the mess, we ended up taking the deposition in the now-defunct restaurant in one of the lobbies in the building, for all of the Starbucks crowd to witness. You probably have to be familiar with depositions to know just how strange that was.
And then, on Friday, I just missed Obama by a hair. He was apparently working out in the gym in the building where that day's depositions occurred. Okay, that story is not quite as entertaining, but I did think it was fairly strange.
The good news is that this week is proving itself to be tremendously boring and uneventful. That, and my open neck wound is healing nicely.
Tuesday morning, after suffering a night of insomnia and before backing my car into our neighbor's stone retaining wall, my mom's dog Cosmo bit me in the jugular. That's right - a canine throat-punch with crooked teeth. My initial concern was the embarrassment I'd suffer in heaven when the mean kids circulated my obituary which described how I bled out on my bed next to the villainous 12 pound great white carpet shark. (Don't ask me how it is mean kids get to heaven... adrenaline tends to blur reasonable thought.) Upon realizing that Cosmo's tiny little impaling death grip didn't puncture the main vein, my next concern was how to convince the people in my deposition that no, it was not a hickey, and yes, it's true I was bitten by a dust mop. No luck on that one, even though there were four or five clearly distinct bright red teeth marks.
So, on the way in to work, after backing my car into our neighbor's stone retaining wall, I received an urgent call from my assistant to the effect of "Um, the woman you are supposed to depose is freaking out in the elevator lobby on 19 because she's terrified of heights. She won't move, she's yelling and the receptionists want to know what to do."
Okay. Well, if I were afraid of heights, I'd consider that before pressing the button for the 19th floor in the elevator that travels only to floors 15-30. But who am I to judge? So, after offering a few alternatives including the one in which the panic-stricken woman's attorney would handle the mess, we ended up taking the deposition in the now-defunct restaurant in one of the lobbies in the building, for all of the Starbucks crowd to witness. You probably have to be familiar with depositions to know just how strange that was.
And then, on Friday, I just missed Obama by a hair. He was apparently working out in the gym in the building where that day's depositions occurred. Okay, that story is not quite as entertaining, but I did think it was fairly strange.
The good news is that this week is proving itself to be tremendously boring and uneventful. That, and my open neck wound is healing nicely.