Comment response time:
Jon: Yes. Yes it is.
Miriam: greetings were passed along, and were returned in kind.
So the week with Alex was good- I wish I’d had more time off to goof
around with him and Dennis, but it was good, nonetheless. I forget how
much I miss having him around, so we can gang up on Dennis with our
collective wit (we had him rolling his eyes at us within thirteen
seconds of Alex walking in the door), among other things.
Now that he’s gone back to BC, though, he’s really getting ahead of
Dennis’ and my character in World of Warcraft. I can’t keep up, even
with my overstated amount of free time (when I’m not working all the
So I’ve discovered that work is fully intent on wearing me down to a
nub. Lots of hours the last little while, chucking around potatoes (oh,
good lord, do we have lots of potatoes) and carrots, for a guy who’s
built like a beanpole. On the plus side, I’ve been able to save a
little bit of money the last little while.
So they ask, “What do you spend your money on?” Well, food. Rent.
Utilities. Car stuff. And then, when all that’s taken care of, the odd
indulgence. I’m a pretty boring guy that way. I do occasionally go out
on a limb, and wear white socks with my black pants at work sometimes-
a faux pas of epic proportions.
I see guys at work living from paycheck to paycheck (Or, indulging as
soon as they get said paycheck), and I can’t fathom living that way.
I’m glad to have been brought up responsibly, not spending everything
I’ve got as soon as I’ve got it (I have my mom, the banker, to thank
for some of that).
Flipping tracks, I’m developing a frothing hatred for telemarketers.
Check that- telemarketing. Hate the sin, not the sinner, and such.
Every day, it seems, I get a call Telus asking if I want to switch my
internet over, Shaw wondering if I’d like to use their digital phone
service, or 3Web, about “the next generation of high-speed internet.”
How many times do I have to say I’m not interested before they figure
out that I’m not interested?
I’m capable of doing my own research on the subject- their’s really no
need for them to call me up every night I’m at home to inflict their
view on me.
If I find out who gave them my number… I’ll probably do nothing. But I won’t be happy about it. Not at ALL.
Talk to ya later.