Tomorrow morning, bright and early and early and early are the annual buggy races at Carnegie Mellon. Buggy has best been described as an addiction and every year around the beginning of February my body starts to become severely in tune with the weather from sun-up to 9 AM on Saturdays and Sundays. By the time the first weekend in April comes around, my body starts naturally adjusting my weekends so that I'm up later into the night and earlier in the mornings. When raceday comes around, anticipation spikes to the point where everyone around me thinks I've gone off the deep end. I've mentioned what a royally fucked up week this has been and thankfully most everyone at work has attributed my recent mood swing to those items. Honestly, the whole promotion thing won't truly kick in til Monday.
In the midst of this whole transition period at work, I had my presence requested at 5 meetings for tomorrow. 5. And my outlook calendar clearly has me marked off for a vacation day. It was hinted that maybe if I had some time maybe I could make it in for an hour or two. I gently brought up the point that the company had an alcohol policy and my current project manager soon to be peer colleague just lost it. That was the last time that was mentioned.