Finally things are looking up.
I mean sure, we still have an evil mystery blogger hacking our signal every few months, and Guy Goodman St. White has become an alcoholic and we are still getting paid in fast food restaurant coupons instead of cash and The Sci Guy is doing unspeakable experiments into the time/space continuum basically to try to resurrect the one woman in the world who kissed him (just before she nobly sacrificed herself to an invading army of Octorians––other Octorians, you understand; not like me, I'm cool), and real Chris, who we all sort of depend on to be weirdly creative has some sort of sleep disorder that crops up every few months and right now's the time and it means he sleeps like 12-14 hours a day for almost a week, and we spend a lot of time playing canasta in on the second floor with the cheese guy (and pretending we don't hear the velociraptor with the eye laser roaming around above us)....
...but other than that, things are really going well.
You see, Leela Bruce just got me the early draft of her next piece (after a mere four years) and my tentacles are trembling with giddy excitement. We're finally going a little old school around here. I have tried to calm down, taking as slow a sip from my "I *heart* Dor" tea mug as I could stand to take, glancing down at my "Doing it for Dor" t-shirt, letting a single tentacle gently caress my WWDD bracelet, nodding to myself, and taking a deep breath before my arms sprang into motion.
First, I'm releasing the hold on the "Good" coupons for her and giving her a "seconds" voucher at the cafeteria for sloppy Joe's night. Also I'm upgrading her parking spot and I'm going to make sure that Michael Dukakis gets into her quarters twice a week to clean. So everyone else will get to see what it means when I say I have ultimate power over and I'm willing to use it.
Once they realize that the path to awesome goes straight through my eight arms, they'll start playing by the old rules. Oh yes.
Things are definitely looking up.