M--the woman I share an office with--and I have been watching the construction workers outside of our window and laughing at my lack of hand-eye coordination. There must be some problem with the dirt at the big dig because the white guys are here investigating it. M calls them the white guys because they are dressed entirely in white. They work with Aulson Environmental Services, or so says their truck. M wanted to know why they are lining the bed of their truck before loading it up with dirt. We have agreed that there is something very, very wrong with the dirt.

M and I don't really have much work to do lately. I use this opportunity to be bored, read blogs and check job listings. M uses this opportunity to complain about how she's bored and ask me if I have anything for her to do. So far I have given her all of my work except for one project, and as she whips through my jobs I read the synopses of the Real World and the Osbournes. About thirty minutes ago I was talking to Martha on the phone, periodically putting her on speakerphone so that M could also crack up at the sing-songy voice with which Martha was describing the pillow cases in her mother's living room. M got a phone call from mmmmm...ks and went to get something from him. I hung up with Martha in time for M to walk back to her room with that smug ice cream look on her face. "I actually have work to do now," M beamed, a smile on her face. I shook my head as my phone rang. Another friend to talk to. I have been at work for two hours so far today and have spoken to my friends for eighty of those minutes.