Maybe their Box was Really Small

The perfect comeback when people tell you to think "outside the box."

Sunday, all I could do was lie on the couch and sweat. I had to close the window because the air coming through it was the same temperature as the air coming out of my oven when I heated up my dinner. (I have got to find some cold foods that I can make without turning on the oven; either that or start doing the frozen dinners in the microwave and just get over the soggy pea problem.)

I did, however, summon up the energy to organize my comic books. Let's just get this straight: I'm not a geek for reading comics. I'm not even a geek for being able to converse at length on the various pros and cons of the various make-ups of the various X-Men teams.

I'm a geek because I get as much pleasure out of my organization system, which has grown to include both an Excel spreadsheet and an Access database, as I do out of reading the books themselves.

I led a meeting on Monday. It was semi-important. Apparently, I've been put in charge of researching the online registration software, including setting up the conference calls/online demonstrations. Apparently, I have superior computer skills, even though it doesn"t seem like I know that much more than anyone else. I think I just inherited my father"s ability to psychically intimidate Microsoft Windows into behaving itself. All I have to do is hover over a computer and look concerned and the problem fixes itself without my having to actually *do* anything. It impresses people for some reason.

Anyways, I'm being all "responsible adult" and stuff these days, so naturally, I'm freaked that they'll figure out I'm not as smart as they think I am. I was having anxiety dreams about this meeting where everyone in the office was squashed into Conference Room 2 (because I wasn't expecting everyone, so I didn't book the Boardroom; they would have all fit in the Boardroom) waiting for the demonstration to start, only I couldn't get the projector to work and they are all glaring at me... even my father, who was also there, having flown out from Virginia for this Very Important Meeting. Though, now that I think about it, I should have just asked Daddy to glare at the projector and everything would have been fine.

I don't know why my mother wasn't there too, except that maybe even my unconscious mind knows there's no way she's getting on a plane.

In real life, it went okay. No one seemed to mind I wasn't providing snacks.