A love song for power tools

Twice a year my (new) company has a barbecue and gives away dry goods and fabulous cash prizes to our field guys and various guests. It's the office staff's job to serve the barbecue, but it's my job to organize the whole thing, from the catering to the prizes to the drawings for them to the clipboard containing every single thing the emcee/VP is supposed to talk about, complete with diagrams and flowcharts.

And so. Today was our barbecue, and I thought I had everything well in hand, and in fact I did but there was so much last-minute stuff to do that I wound up at home after it was all over too tired even to change out of my clothes (which are stinky from sweaty me -- this being the warmest day we've had for about three weeks -- and also sugary-banana-y from the enormous pan of sloshy banana pudding I managed to slosh over myself and the inside of my car).

By God, I managed to post in livejournal, though; at least I can be proud of that. Also proud that everything went very smoothly. Go me, livejournal whore and party planner!