Tender is the morning

A dear friend is visiting.

We made an amazing dinner last night - tender, spicy brisket; fried, stuffed squash blossoms; mustard greens; heirloom tomatoes.

I drank a vast quantity of wine.

I can feel my pulse in my eyes.

On a going-forward basis

n.o.c. and I are a little delicate this morning (as Auntie Mame would say, Mommy's hung), but I'm also recovering from yesterday's professional development bof*ckingnanza. Corporate speak makes me murderous, and I feel the need to air a few grievances. I refuse to "reach out" to anyone. I will not "circle back" or "close the loop." I will take no "action steps," and I will pay no mind to our "dotted-line relationship." What the f*ck do people mean by saying these things? Do they think they're being more clear? Clever? Inventive?

I am going to take my tender head out into the world, and I WILL have happy, dammit, but NOT on a going-forward basis.

And happy valentine's day. I'm giving n.o.c. a fistful of Advil.