2001-08-23 - 2:32 p.m.
My throat is scratchy and my ear drums could survive the vacume of space. I'm also sweaty, cold, and irritable. Perfect to go out for a night on the town with people that have nothing left to lose. The illustrious visitors from Seattle are going to go out with a bang (while they still have company credit cards) and due to my kindness and the wheels that I greased with tasteful mementos I've been invited along to possibly self destruct with them. I'm going because I'm not one to shirk the responsibility of a rousing send off, especially on the company dime, but its just that I feel bad. Not guilty. And I have to actually be at work tomorrow because I moderate a meeting. Or rather babysit a meeting so that the production folks don't kill the shipping folks etc. As much as I'd like that to happen. But I think that the shipping folks would probably win during hand to hand combat because they are survivors. Survivors without teeth or social skills but survivors none the less. Of course when I feel really bad I tend to be even more bitter and sarcastic, plus my cold medication will no doubt interact with alchohol in amusing and interesting ways. At least to me. And that's really all I ever care about.
Zen and don't cry out loud - 2007-07-29
Zen and the stumbling rocks of fitness - 2007-07-19
- - 2007-07-11
Zen and fasting - 2007-06-20
Zen and hiccups - 2007-06-18
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