Crazy little thing called work

Something fishy is going on. Two days in a row now I've been too busy to goof-off. What the ef? Whoever's put the voodoo curse on me has just gotta stop it. It is getting ridiculous.

So here is what kept me busy yesterday:

My corporate client, who is slightly particular (read: neurotic), needed a hotel in Seattle. Sounds easy, but oh no my friends, it is not. Not when she wants to go to Seattle next week and only wants to stay at 5-star places that have suites where the bedroom is separated from the sitting room -- by a door, not a curtain -- and the sitting room needs to have a sofa bed in it, and if that is not possible, at least two adjoining regular rooms, but I have to get the adjoining confirmed not just requested because that just won't do, and also it needs to have a pool -- indoor, not outdoor, because that is plain crazy -- and the hotel needs to offer high speed internet free of charge in the rooms, not in the business center, plus the hotel needs to be within walking distance of their conference center because apparently rental cars or taxis are taboo, and while I am at it, can I have mints placed on the pillow, a butler installed in the bathroom just in case an aromatherapy bath is in order, and perhaps a little errand boy to hang around outside the hotel door for those little emergency trips to Starbucks or the drugstore? Oh, and can I get the options e-mailed over within 15 minutes? Yeah. OK.

In other words: nothing complicated unless you consider the IMPOSSIBLE complicated.

But by god I performed a miracle and found the perfect hotel. I am awesome. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but beep beep.