Thanks to refereeing a fencing tournament this weekend, I actually had to get up earlier during the weekend than I do the week. As a result, sleep has been difficult to come by, which is not aided by my body's refusal to turn off every night. Someone suggested tea or milk to help. I suggest whiskey.
Friday at work my "mentor" aka, the person in charge of the other intern and me, did not have any work for me to do in the morning. His instructions were "Go mess around on espn.com. I'll see what I can come up with." After four hours I finally got some work - organizing a spreadsheet in a different way and adding two sentences to a cover letter. Those took about 5 minutes each, and there wasn't a really good way to stretch them out. Then I got to look over a brief. Please discount the pun but that assignment was brief as well. Hope this week is more promising. Otherwise I'm starting to get angry as the computer cheats more and more at Hearts.
My friend who works at Ferragamo was trying to get me to buy shoes. While I am certain of their quality, on sale and with his 40% discount I still do not have $400 to spend on shoes, thank you.
While I do not desire to speak of the actual game, Thursday night I went out to a bar in Fenway for Game 7 Celtics/Lakers. Packard, fresh from a year in China, was present, as were a number of people I haven't seen in a while. Halfway through the game someone we knew started working the downstairs bar, so drinks were pretty easy to come by.
...I am not sure I have ever seen so many angry Bostonians in one place at around midnight that night. No one was happy. Thinking ahead, I parked my car about half a mile away from Fenway so I wouldn't get caught in a police barricade. I did walk by a few squads of riot police, tear gas ready, but I had no trouble getting home. Unfortunately there was no riot to disperse, and the precautions of the Boston PD were for naught.
There are some people who are perfectly nice who I just do not care for. People who are nice, and despite being kind of boring seem like they have more to themselves. What are you hiding? A ruthless, back-stabbing true personality? The fact that you are secretly (or not so secretly) a moron? Or are you actually just really boring? Unanswered questions.
I have to start writing cover letters this week. Self-promotion on paper addressed to "To Whom It May Concern" isn't my favorite thing. Maybe I'll just use blog entries and hope that they don't actually read cover letters.
Alejandro.
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