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Thursday, June 17, 2004

Next... 

When one has poor time management skills, as I do, one tends to juggle various activities and inevitably neglects them all at one point or another. So, for the past few days, the ol' blog was not on the receiving end of my attention. You didn't miss much. Saturday I did some OT and Sunday I was feeling bleah all day, probably due to lack of sleep. Monday and Tuesday, I tried to get some more sleep. I also ran some errands and, of course, worked. Now today... oh, poop, I guess it's already Thursday. Ahem. Now Wednesday I just goofed off. I got up a bit early as Noodles and der kinder were going to the Nordic Heritage Museum with Noodles' sister. I've been there once and wasn't interested in going again. Instead, after writing a quick note to go into Hamburger Dad's Father's Day card, I zipped up to Scarecrow Video to rent a Farscape video. (Let me tell you, it's a pain to get into a series after it's gone to video. Especially when the episodes you want to see aren't carried by the chain stores and you get off of work to late to go to the real video stores.) Anyway, i spent the rest of the morning watching an episode and then zipping down to Matt's Famous Chili Dogs to get a real Vienna Beef hot dog for lunch. (My relationship with Matt's is only slightly more explained in my Travel Guide to Seattle.)(Okay, I'll stop with the links already.)(heh. Get it? Links?)(sorry. It's late.)

Anyway, after a morning of self-indulgence, I left for work happier than I've been for a while. I figured the feeling was going to be transitory and sure 'nuff... it was. I had the usual overtime e-mail sitting in my in box when I got to work. I just read it and rolled my eyes, but as the night progressed it kept eating at the back of my mind and I am now back to my usual level of cynicism. At least I didn't get enraged or depressed, as I have done in times past. I do think, however, that the time has come to write a note to my boss about this. I won't give it to him, of course. I'll just post it here, where he'll never see it. (Well, maybe he will. Bloatmeal has instituted a policy of logging on to use the internet, so I'm sure they've got some record of where I've surfed. It would be easy enough to figure out that this Hamburger Lad character is me, as I'm not the type of person to attract a stalker.) I'm such an ineffectual wimp.