Maybe This Will Make It Clear 12 October 2001

6:56 PM: My Day.

• 12:00 AM: Play Solitaire. Listening to Time: The Revelator.
• 12:30 AM: Go to the bar. Read a bit of new Economist, I'm really behind lately. Watch loud stupid guy go home with tall pretty girl. Drink.
• 2:00 AM: Come home. More Solitaire. Continue reading The Black House, new Stephen King/Peter Straub book. It's OK. You can tell when it's Straub, I think, because the sentence structure gets all fancy and it goes on way too long about no one knows what.
• Approx. 5 AM: Pass out.
• 5:30 AM to 1 PM: Periodically wake up. Wonder what time it is. No source of time information available without getting out of bed. Fall back over.
• 1:14 PM: Phone rings. I ignore it, but have somehow decided in sleep that it is close to 6 PM and that I have slept through the entire day. Decide to get up and find out. Relieved to see this not entirely true. Take shower, leave for work.
• 2 PM: Decide to stop and have food at Squat & Gobble even though it is 2 PM and it was someone from work who called earlier. I have no real reason for this. Food is mediocre as always. Iced tea tastes odd, too.
• 3:15 PM: Arrive at work. Immediately fix two problems that have been stumping other people all day. Must stop doing that. Want to be laid off, not held tighter.
• 6:30 PM: Reach critical mental breaking point. Stop working, begin to read craigslist and putter about on web.

It's just not worth describing, you see?

Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.

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All names are fake, most places are real, the author is definitely unreliable but it's all in good fun. Yep. © 1998-1999 Lighthouse for the Deaf. All rights reserved and stuff. The motto at the top of the page is a graffito I saw on Brunswick Street in Melbourne.