zird is the word (lizardek) wrote,
zird is the word

  • Mood:
  • Music:


This morning, the sun struck the fields as if it was on a game show pulling back the curtain to reveal first prize. The sun as Vanna White. I used to LOVE watching The Price is Right when I was a kid. I thought it was fascinating that people always had eggbeaters and red pencils in their purses just in case. Anyway, first prize this morning in Flyinge was the jewel-encrusted, diamond-coated, mica-covered, glittering, sun-struck WORLD. Spring is lurking, a shy child hiding behind Mother Winter's skirts, peeking out to smile at us.

A whole week of sunshine and blue skies in the middle of a Swedish February: what an unexpected treat. I feel as if I was given a gift that I couldn't use, because of having to work. I wanted to play hookey so bad this week, like Anders did, taking off early to fetch the kids and go play in town. Because it was moving week at work though, there was just too much to do.

IKEA warning: Never, ever buy Reslig frames if you're expecting to just slip a picture in between the glass and back and hang it up. The posters I designed for the new offices came out great and we went to IKEA to buy frames for about 40 of them. Unfortunately, upon arriving back at the office to start the framing process, we discovered that one must:
  • unscrew 3 of the 4 corner screws
  • remove 2 sides of the metal frame
  • remove the placeholder paper
  • peel off plastic protective wrap ON BOTH SIDES of the plexiglass
  • put the whole thing back together
  • screw in the 3 screws again
Packaging geniuses! Who came up with this shit?! After 40 frames, my fingers are chafed and sore, but at least the posters look bee-yoo-ti-ful.

We went over to the new office to drop a couple of things off, and there is NO furniture in 2 of the 3 wings still. They have 2 days left to completely place about 100 desks, 200 bookcases, and various other furniture. I suspect I'll have no work station when I arrive on Monday morning.

If not, I'm playing hookey.
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.