2002-08-16 - 2:13 p.m.
I went through boxes last night. Trying to sort through the junk and the miscellaneous papers and things that Iíve carted from place to place. I came across a bunch of papers from school, some old notebooks, a sketchbook, a Pen-Tab full of short stories and plays that Iíd written. Rather than an amusing trip down memory lane, it was more a disturbing reminder of where I was. Which is actually fitting. The whole, where Iíve been thing. Because tomorrow my Diary turns one year old. So, uhm, happy birthday diary.
I should probably come up with one of those introspective, Iíve been quoted, and Iíve made friends and link them and everything. Itís kind of the thing to do at the anniversary. So, maybe Iíll do that tomorrow. Or procrastinate it away.
I had a manicure this afternoon. On my lunch break. My hands are now very soft. And clean, and my nails and cuticles have been hacked, filed, and massaged into submission. They actually feel great. The manicurist kept telling me to relax. Especially my thumb. The mostly Asian crowd found me amusing and worthy of tittering about. I could do that every couple of weeks. The most amusing thing about the whole manicure incident was that yesterday I was invited to lunch. I declined, giving the excuse that I had an appointment to get my nails done. As soon as the words where out of my mouth, I realized what Iíd said. There was a moment of stunned silence, compounding my embarrassment. I can probably kiss any lunch plans for the next month good-bye. Itís for the best really. Iím not all that great with socializing with my co-workers. Missing a giant interdepartmental lunch at a cheap Mexican establishment isnít too bad. And I did get the nails done.
Okay, this is shaping up into the worst diary entry ever.
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