I love Instant Messenger. Taxman and I use it all the time. I don't have to involve his secretary--I'm convinced she doesn't like me--and most often what we are discussing doesn't require an immediate answer, so a 20 minute lag (or whatever) doesn't matter.
Today Taxman needed to know whether to order more tax-season overtime dinners, paid for by his firm, for next week and beyond. Essentially, he wanted to know when the b2b would be showing up. Umm. If only I knew!
The conversation then drifted to related topics:
OTE: i wish i had some sort of SIGN that this baby would be coming soon! mucus plug, SROM, or *something*
Tx: i hear ya
OTE: do you have any idea what SROM is?
Tx: no
OTE: ok. just checking.
Tx: so, what is it?
OTE: spontaneous rupture of membranes
Tx: k
He didn't even say "Ewww." (Although he did ask me to put a towel under the mattress pad last week.) What a guy!
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