Channeling Ms Manella-Pisani, Back From '94

Good pause there. Would I really conclude my blog of three (3) years with a vague statement about Anne from Kinkos? Would I? I guess that's up to you to decide. Actually, it's not at all, since I am posting this, and there is no longer a vague statement about Anne to end with. More of a vague speculation about a vague statement about Anne and my blog and how I would choose to conclude it.

Try as I might, I will never be Douglas Adams. And neither will you, failure. Andrew loaned me Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency but I didn't like the last few chapters, so it never quite got finished. I think when I gave it back to him (if I did? It may still be in my closet), I was three pages from the end. This happens with many a dry read. I ride it out to the last couple of pages before I finally say "To hell with it." Andrew was always a little dismayed that I never finished it. But he got me fish this weekend, so what's the problem? What is the problem? None.

And today I am up since 5:35 in the morning, my only just cause being to worry about a mistake (or boo-boo) I made last night at work, the very idea of which a bystander pharmacist pretty much drilled into my head as being idiotic. After hearing him vocally repeat the intricacies of what I did wrong for 4 minutes in his shitty accent with his ugly, straggly beard that has two grayed stripes in the front of it, I said "Ya, I see no point in repeating yourself if there's no chance it will reverse time and also the mistake made." I also suggested he have a wonderful evening. Here's a thought: Pay a menial wage, expect a menial employee.

I should be more worried about a wisdom tooth extraction I'll be having later today. I mean, really, Nicole. There will be physical parts of me missing by 3pm today. The emotional wounds from which, may never heal.

Ah, summer.