I didn't get LASIK for this

I feel as though my eyes are about to fall out of my head.

We're going through a big change here at work, which involves not only everyone's prices going up, but the division of each department into levels based on "experience, education and availability." At least, that's the mantra they've been feeding us for a few months. Some people are on board, but I haven't drunk the Kool-Aid just yet.

Let me explain.

What used to be one price is now seven. Seven different prices. For each service. Thankfully, I am not on the front line and don't have to explain this to clients. Unfortunately, I am on the back line, and have to update the prices in the software we use to run our business. And on our Web site. And in the shopping cart of our web site.

And we offer a lot of services.

So that's what I've been doing all day. Changing one price into seven, times three. The site and shopping cart are done, and what I can do in the software without mucking up current operations is done. The rest has to wait until close of business tomorrow night, which doesn't happen until 9. Yes, my friends, Birfday Eve will be spent in my office, at my desk, pounding away on the ol' laptop. I don't mind, really, as M is out of town and won't return til Saturday morning, when he'll probably find me semi-conscious and muttering price points for various spa services.

I'm already tired, and it's not even tomorrow yet. My desk is covered in paper, with lone towers sticking out that look like a downtown cityscape: the laptop, phone, big plastic cup 'o water, and giant bottle of Tum's. People have been coming into the office frequently (as they usually do), see the Tum's, and say, "Ohhhh," and just leave. I might have to use this as a form of defense more often.

I've now had pizza three times this week. Granted, it was different types of pizza from different places (Pi, Imo's and Pizza World...all a universe apart in pizza style), but still, it was all pizza. If I see a piece of pizza again in the next month, I might hurl.

Good news on the Zoemobile. Price came in from the independent transmission rebuilder dude and it's a grand less than snooty Honda mechanic wanted. The Zoemobile lives! Hopefully for two more years! It'll go in tomorrow and I'll get it back some time next week, which means we all get to cram in M's little teensycar for awhile. I'm thankful we have two cars...I just wish one was a bit larger than a shoebox.

Ooooo, this is incredibly gripey. I should know not to blog when I'm tired, my eyes hurt and I'm suffering from pizza bloat. So, I'll end it on a positive note:

Michael Phelps phreakin' rules.