This is my desk in the days leading up to a presidential inauguration. As you can see, the pile is in danger of spilling a little bit forward and fully enveloping me. In case I don’t return your call or e-mail, it’s possible my desk ate me. Make sure the cats are fed. My TV has been spoken for.
I’d be lying if I said I was looking forward to this event in Washington on Tuesday. Just this morning, a good five days out, I was on a train that got delayed twice, both for other trains that had malfunctioned. The train that takes me closest to my office had to hold a few minutes at every platform to try to correct the backup from an earlier train malfunction.
I’m happy that I’ll actually get to live here during a presidential inauguration. That’s kind of cool. I do have a feeling that it’s one of those things that once you experience it, that’s it. It’s not any cooler the second time around. I won’t be able to really go see the parade and I’ll be watching the swearing-in from the heated comfort of my office (note: ‘heated’ is a relative term as I sit here freezing to death with a cold nose and a blanket on my lap).
There are already people outside of Metro stations selling Obama-themed items. Yesterday, someone called me and asked me if I’d received the sample package of Obama-themed orange soda. Yes. That’s right. Obama-themed orange soda. In my frazzle, I said, “Wow. You all are putting his face on everything these days, aren’t you?” She wasn’t as concerned about this phenomenon as I was. “Appalled that I mentioned this observation” would be more accurate.
Orange soda to me is just the beginning. Then it’s like “Spaceballs.” Obama: The placemat. Obama: The flame thrower. Obama: The coffee mug. Obama: The breakfast cereal.
I’m going to bring my camera to work Tuesday and try to get some shots. Maybe not of the real action, but the side shows. The side shows tend to be far more interesting anyway.