Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)
Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.
This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.
Friday, April 01, 2005
BLAH! BLAH blah, blah.
And I mean it!
Still stuck in a loop here, but figured I should take a break for a moment so as to keep the rest of my brain from falling onto the keyboard. If I don't, I might get like the guy that just came to the lobby counter.
Great big gigantic huge mean-looking guy. As I was walking back to my office (after coming back from the snack bar downstairs where I had purchased a refreshing and tasty Diet Coke), he in turn was walking into the double doors that lead to the freight elevator vestibule. The vestibule is inside our suite, so when he walked in there and screamed at the top of his lungs, it was very easy to hear.
Seems he's had a problem with one of the other folks in the department, and he has fully and truly learned what it's like to try to deal with a bureaucrat who is retired-in-place. Thankfully, he wasn't so angry that he did anything more than let out a blood-curdling scream. Having had to deal with the same person myself, I understand our visitor's urge to let off some steam.
It's been otherwise quiet here today--and there was a lovely sunny blue-sky midday, most certainly, after a night of rain, and a morning of rain, and an afternoon once again threatening rain. As I surmised last week, the arrival of spring means the jungle around the house has suddenly kicked into high gear for growth. I walked out this morning and the long patch of clover between my neighbor's driveway and mine was so high I couldn't see over it. Not really. It was only waist high.
BUT, doesn't look to be any way to get the mower out tomorrow--too wet. And I still have my taxes to do. And papers to type for someone. And a new class quarter starting Sunday at church means all sorts of other thinkey type things I have to do. And there's laundry. And there's this bout of dementia I keep having where I think it would be really neat sell old Moby (the white '94 Plymouth minivan) and buy an old car. But not just anything old, and not anything cool, either; but something awful and weird, just for the sake of being awful and weird. Maybe a Renault Fuego. Or a Fiat Brava.
Hopefully this will pass.
Anyway, I need to get back to work right now, or I'll never get done.
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