Maybe This Will Make It Clear
12 October 2001
6:56 PM: My Day.
It's just not worth describing, you see?
- 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.
Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.
All names are fake, most places are real, the author is definitely unreliable but it's all in good fun. Yep.
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The motto at the top of the page is a graffito I saw on Brunswick Street in Melbourne.