If you haven't already, check out the links in the ticker. It's over on the right. The ticker is always full of linky goodness, but it's especially good today. But save the one on top for last.

Happy Thanksgiving everybody. Thanks to all those who've encouraged me to keep this thing rolling.

I am simultaneously happy and sad.

You should know that I sometimes stop my TiVo in the middle of fast-forwarding so that I can watch the commercials.

Yes, seriously.

But after watching 37 DVD reels from directors who want to shoot the spot I wrote, I want to vomit.

Watching 37 reels should be fun. Because a reel should be nothing but awesome work.

Four, maybe five, of the 37 were fun to watch.

I changed my work schedule a couple weeks ago, and it has revolutionized my life. I arrive at 7 am and leave at 4 pm. Which means I show up and depart an hour before everyone else in the office.

It's nice to have an hour to myself in the morning. I get a lot accomplished.

It's great to get to see my family a little sooner at the end of the day.

I enjoy the fact that my commute takes place at an odd hour, so traffic is a little lighter.

But the best part is that when I'm walking out the door at 4 pm, even though I've worked a full day and put in the same amount of time, I get to think about all the suckers who are going to be stuck at their desks for another hour.

If you don't really want my opinion, don't ask me those questions.

Like, for real.

Don't do it.

You bother me.

Also, you smell like coffee.

And not in a good way.

"Roslyn, does anyone ever call you Roz?"

"Sure."

"Is it okay if I call you Roz? Do you mind that?"

"No, that's alright."

"Okay, so show me your feet, Roz."

You may have noticed that all of my recent posts have been rather short. (In all likelihood, if you have noticed, you haven't really cared. For the sake of my self esteem, though, in my head you're at least slightly curious.)

I'm trying to ease back into this blogging thing. The reason I stopped posting for so long is mostly that I made too big a deal of the whole thing and started to get intimidated.

Shorter posts are my way of easing back into this. Like getting into a jacuzzi.

This morning, Jim and I decided that we would go play racquetball this evening.

About fifteen minutes after we made the plans, it came to light that neither one of us knows how to play racquetball.

We're still going.

I'm sitting in the San Francisco Oven right now, waiting for some pizza and taking advantage of some free wifi. There are a bunch of posters on the wall behind the counter brandishing photos of miscellaneous food items and the slogan, "A Taste of the Bay Area."

I could be wrong, but I imagine that tasting the Bay Area tastes a lot more like dirt. Maybe a little salt, since it's so close to the Pacific and all that.

Possibly also a little like the Village People and sweaty rainbows.