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Jun. 13th, 2007

Any general weirdness outside of the usual today can be explained by this news story. (This is one of my new daily posts from GoogleDocs; the post will update through the day without notice. Editing will end by 6pm GMT -7.)

12:31
Breakfast this morning was stew in a travel coffee mug. Don't laugh too hard: it worked! Got sparkling cider and candles in my bag for the upcoming exodus of the writers group. Got an e-mail saying that a new person in Mesa was thinking about joining us. I should really e-mail back and explain the transition, at least in part.

Some noisy neighbors today before I left. There was more moaning next door than I really wanted to hear emerging from the apartment of some little old lady. It's great that senior citizens have fun too, but there ... just. Um. Moaning, banging, clattering, clanging, all sorts of disturbance. Erk.

12:50
Thinking about it, M is the only one of our writers who might be able to get away with flouting the "no explicit sex" rule. She writes plants. The beings in her planned arc of novels are botanical humanoids, with plant-part sex organs. Her love scenes are very explicit, very erotic, and very, very alien.

Something here in my office smells faintly like burning. I'm not sure what's up with that.

1:13
Snarky Lady just had a look at the interviewer break room and didn't seem to like what she saw there. I know she sometimes doesn't care for the new hires we're pulling in, but she said that these were worse than the usual lot we get, and some of the old hands didn't seem to be looking quite right either. And she shut the security doors. She doesn't shut the security doors when we have a class!

1:35
Holy fuck! I wanted ice, so I tried going out to the interviewer break room. BIG MISTAKE. Apathy is normal for employees here. Shambling, greyish skin, and drool is NOT. Back in the training room. Got chairs and stuff shoved up against the doors. I would be gibbering in the corner except I have to stay calm or something, so I'll gibber on LJ instead. OH WE ARE SO FUCKED.

1:41
Snarky Lady is saying "I told you they weren't right!" and scolding me for having opened the doors. HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT SHE WAS BEING LITERAL!

1:56
Not sure what there is around to use as a weapon. There are chairs and things. There's the projector screen in the corner. There are the whiteboards. I have my rather large frickin' bag.

2:01
...omg. Sparkling cider bottles. Broken glass. Hello!

2:07
Thanks, Tango, for the advice. You're right: using the clue bat on zombies would be Very, Very Bad News Indeed. Wow. Bad. So glad I didn't. But broken glass and a makeshift wooden club ought to do fairly well. There's a Batman mask and a Darth Vader mask in the call center; I'm thinking of grabbing the Vader mask and some of the clothes from the lost & found bin. The less biohazard I get on my skin while getting out of here, the better.

2:44
Door still holding. We're all gathered in here preparing for a group of us to bust out and see if we can't take the entire building back.

3:30
We have the break room. This means we have ice. Huh. I wonder if packing their heads in ice will stave off the infection. Snarky Lady's Minion went down, and we're just hoping, you know? She's in the room with us and it's making me very. Very. Very. Nervous.

5:01

Snarky Lady tripped and the top of her coffee cup came off, spewing hot coffee everywhere. Turns out this batch of zombies is deterred by that. We had a whole bunch of coffee equipment in the back. The whole building smells of coffee now, but at least it's zombie-free. One of the ladies in back found those pump-thermoses we have, and sprayed down the zombies outside the doors. We've established a safe corridor over to the school across the street, which is more defensible, and we've started shuttling people over there.

Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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