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I have decided that time is relative. If there's an ungodly amount of work in, then it races by, sticking it's tongue out at you. If the store is deader than the proverbial doornail, time trudges along with all the enthusiasm of an approaching root canal. Well, at least all this stocking of paper will build up my arms.

Waiting for Friday, when the film I finally got around to dropping off is supposed to be in. I had them do one roll on a CD so I could see how it came out; if it looks okay, then I'll do it that way in the future. Was going to drop my library books off, but the place was closed and there was no drop box. Opened a savings account, figure if I put in a hundred dollars a paycheck, I might have enough for a car in, like, ten years. Go me.

Am very much looking foward to the day when there will be no banging and hammering and sawing and bad 80's music and cursing... coming from the roof, that is. Earplugs screen out a lot, but those nice percussive sounds you can feel down in your spleen still come through. And to top it off, I woke up sneezing and it's only gotten worse since. I can't count the number of customers who've asked me why I was crying. Very seriously considering emulating Jen's character and doing away with my nose alltogether.

Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities. Truth isn't.
-Mark Twain

Comments

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
veijukka
Jun. 11th, 2003 12:16 pm (UTC)
Nose? You don't need no stinkin' nose...

Did the Clariton help at all? Want to try Zyrtec? I think I've got some hidden away somewhere...

*petpet*
( 1 comment — Leave a comment )

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