I turn on the tv and see Tonya Harding wailing on Paula Jones in a show called “Celebrity Boxing.” This is why am having a lobotomy: I figure I’ll save Fox a few bucks and get a jump on it. My life as a drone… you will be assimilated.
I asked Karin what I should write about tonight. We had our traditional evening chat – I wouldn’t want to let Telus think I didn’t love them – and she figured I should extol the virtues of living in such a quasi-tropical climate. Apparently it is cold and snowy in Alberta right now, while here – though none of the locals would agree – it is almost balmy. I would write more, but – sorry, Karin – this is just soooooooo exciting. Maybe next I’ll talk about my hair… (insert dramatic pause here)… ppppft!
Tonight was another cub night – or as Ross calls them: the animals. I would disagree, but he’s pretty much right. Every Wednesday evening as I’m leaving work, Ross pops his head out of his office and says: “So, do you have the animals tonight.” and laughs this chortling laugh. I usually just reply with a big evil grin, and leave it at that. It would have been one of our typical raising the roof evenings, but the other leader wasn’t there, so I ran the thing at a level of point one degrees above chaos. Then I walked home and reflected on my existence, and enjoyed the silence of the city.