Less productive than ever

I bitch about work a lot. Well, mainly the hours that I work, but for all that bitching, my job is actually pretty decent.

I listen to Day to Day. I listen to All Things Considered. I've got to hear Lakshmi Singh at least once a day. If I'm so inclined, I'll make room for Diane Rehm. Sometimes I'll listen to This American Life. I do the crossword. I listen to and download music. I bring my Netflix movies with me and play them on my Mac. Now, to detract from working even more, Netflix is streaming their movies for PC users. So I have an entire library of movies from which to choose. I recently watched The Hours (holy crap, that movie sucked!) and Gay Sex in the 70's (holy crap, that movie sucked!). Plus, there's this site which has allowed me to catch the ever-dreamy John Barrowman in the spin-off series to Dr. Who (think Men In Black meets the X-Files). But I still do my work. I still meet my deadlines--and our "on-time" report has increased since my promotion. So I'm allowed these little perks, right?

Last Friday was fiesta Friday. I made some pretty killer fajitas (marinate chicken in canola oil, orange juice, lime juice, cilantro, garlic, jalepeno and serrano for at least 8 hours before cooking). We have a skillet here and I reheated the chicken/onion/peppers on it. They sizzled in a corner of the lab while we poured margaritas. You heard right, margaritas. After the meal, my four co-workers and I took shots of Hornito's and then took turns taking siestas.

Even on non-fiesta nights, most of us take naps.

But, yeah, I complain a lot still (I mean, I only get to see Phil like 2 days a week).

And truthfully, I would probably process many more images if I didn't constantly distract myself with things--things like this blog . . .

But until my schedule allows spontaneity, I will continue to be less than optimally productive.