I woke up late again, and alone, with Jennifer's shade long gone. I ran to Roxbury Crossing (again), and then from Community College to get in on time. My shift was pretty well fragmented, interesting at times and enraging at others. Everyone seemed to want a piece of me; at one point, I jumped down the rabbit hole with three tasks assigned in one hour, one of which was pulling like sixty fucking articles; at another juncture, someone asked me to pull some links that would have taken the other person five minutes to do, less the time spent explaining it to me. I learned that "stat" (used in the same manner as "pronto") is short for the Latin statim, or "immediately"; I also learned that "Texas" is Norwegian slang for Wild West-style craziness. Additionally, we run certain apps on Internet Explorer (mercifully Chrome is available on these ancient netbooks) and today it crashed on startup, solely loading a prompt begging me to make IE my default browser. It's pathetic, really.
I hit DOC like a wall, decorated a foam pumpkin with permanent marker, and retired to my desk to unwind with a beer. When I got home, Emily came over to talk and sort through my paper leavings. We were quickly joined by Alaric, then Jules, Dylan, and Nathan. New York beat the Coyotes 4-1; Lundqvist stoned Duclair on a grade-A chance, so... I guess we won the Duclair-Yandle trade? What is a Duke to a King? Rick Nash finally got his first goal of the season, and since he got hooked on an empty-net breakaway, he didn't even have to put the puck in net to do it. People smoked and played Mario Kart, I decorated, and finally got to talk to Emily much later.
Quote of the day:
"'Walk in line.' I ain't living in a country where I ever got to walk in no line. You don't like the way I walk, fuck you!" - high lady on the OL
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