Mondays aren�t so bad when you�re coming at them after a nice, relaxing weekend. Non and I didn�t do a lot this weekend, except lay around, watch football, and eat� except putting it that way makes us sound like horrific couch potatoes. Our weekend was a bit more eventful than I�ve just made it sound.

On Friday night, we went to services at a local synagogue � one of Non�s student�s was having her bat mitzvah, so we went to see and support her. Then, we met a friend downtown for a late dinner (fantastic jambalaya). On Saturday, we slept in, and it was Oh. So. Good. Then we ran a few errands, which included buying me three new bras. Out with the old and in with the new. There are few things that are better than a new bra� are you with me on that, ladies? We went a little out of our way, but Non is such a trooper. He didn�t even flinch as I perused bra after bra in the nearest Frederick's of Hollywood store. If you�re looking for a new bra, let me highly suggest a trip to Frederick�s. Especially for us larger boob-ed women� Frederick�s makes push-up bra�s that actually push my rather sizable rack up (which is no small task, believe me).

On Saturday night we were going to rent a movie, but we ended up catching the last few minutes of Robin Williams� newest stand-up show (recorded on Broadway) on HBO East, and we laughed so hard that we just stayed home to watch it in its entirety when it came on three hours later on HBO West. If you haven�t seen it, watch it. Watch it for his explanation of how the game of golf was created by a Scotsman. I haven�t laughed that hard in a long time.

On Sunday, we had a friend over to watch the Giants v. 49ers game. Non likes his football, and I don�t mind it. I can get into it, as long as there�s not a Trading Spaces marathon going on simultaneously. And this particular game was a good one. It came right down to the last few seconds, and the 49ers ended up winning 39-38. I like games like that � nail-biters to the last second.

Work has been going well. I feel I�m starting to really fit in here, which is nice. Floyd, however, is not. You may recall my mentioning that Floyd isn�t incompetent. I�ll stick with that theory only because there are two many syllables in the word, incompetent, for Floyd to pronounce. Today, I passed by Floyd, who was aggressively attempting to remove a staple from a stack of papers. He looked frustrated, so I asked if he needed any help.

Me: Hey Floyd� do you need any help?

Floyd: Yeah. Can you get this staple out for me? I can�t get it. It�s in there really tight.

Me: Sure. Where is it?

He had a big stack of papers, so he sifted them for me and pointed to the page with the stubborn staple. It takes me perhaps half a second to realize what the problem is.

Me: Uh, Floyd� that isn�t a staple.

Floyd: What do you mean?

Me: It�s a PHOTOCOPY of a staple.

Long pause, during which Floyd inspects the top left-hand corner of the paper.

Floyd: Oh.

And that, my friends, was the highlight of my day. I just wish there were witnesses.