I think that's sufficient reason to be cranky, even aside from the office full of drywall dust and paint fumes that are making my eyes look like I'm coming off a six-week bender, don't you?

I have nothing to say.

That's so odd for me.

Out my window, there's a construction site I've been watching occasionally.

Today there's a huge yellow crane lifting what looks like a yellow tollbooth high into the air.

He's already done another tollbooth and, for reasons I'll probably never fathom, balanced it neatly on the top of a humongous steel pole-thingy. Then he brought up another shorter, pole-thingy and balanced it on the tollbooth, creating another sort of crane-thingy.

I think I'm watching construction workers construct construction equipment.

Construction, like many things in life, is actually fascinating if you know nothing about it.

I feel that way about Britcoms. I watch a lot of them, knowing full well that at least 25% of the cultural references are going to go right over my head. It doesn't seem to matter, though. In fact, it sort of adds to the charm.

Doesn't work for football. I don't get what's happening, but that doesn't make it any less boring.

Works for cricket, though. I don't really understand cricket, and I don't really want to. It's an interesting mystery, and I like it that way.

Maybe I'm just more of an anglophile than I realize?

I wish They would all leave me alone. Bernie and Buehler and PoodleBoy are all wound up because the VPN is down and they can't get to their network files and e-mail.

How many times, I wonder, do you have to tell someone, "I don't know" before they stop asking you the same stupid question? We've been going through this for weeks. I've never yet been able to "fix" any technical issues, so why do they continue to drive me nuts?

Take Bernie. He asked me over and over and over one day, what was wrong with the network. He just kept standing there and asking me. And I'd say, "I don't know."

And he'd say, "can you reboot the server" and then he'd say, "what's wrong with it?"

Or, "can you call DiamondGirl and ask her" and then he'd say, "what's wrong with it?"

Or, "Is it the memory" and then he'd say, "what's wrong with it?"

The fourth time, I couldn't resist, so I actually said, "I have no new information since the last time you asked that question."

That tollbooth must have little hookies on it or something. The yellow crane eased it onto the pole thingy and it's sitting there like it was made to fit. Like TinkerToys. Or Leggos.