working for the
Yesterday I had an amazingly good hair day. Wanna know my secret? I didn't wash it. I'd washed it on Monday and then spent the day just sitting in my office, shivering, so when I was running late (as usual) yesterday morning, I thought why bother to wash? I just rinsed it and dried it as usual, et voila! Best hair day I've had in awhile. Who knew? Not washing: It's a good thing.
Francisco is in the process of training our cats to not bug him for their nightly tuna until the kitchen alarm clock goes off (we have a Bose radio in there, with an alarm function). He set it for 8:40 and this will be the third night we're trying it. I have to say, it's working pretty well already. Esther didn't bug him last night and when the alarm went off she ran into the kitchen and started licking her chops. Pavlov, you were a genius. And who SAYS you can't train cats? Someone who never tried, apparently.
I'm far too vexed at the idiocy of my boss today to write a real entry. I won't go into it but suffice it to say, it's more of his usual incompetence and I'll be happy to leave this place in the dust.
Songs of the Day:
Pet Shop Boys -- Se A Vida, at No Frontin', Just Music.
PJ Harvey -- Working For The Man, at Oh, Sweet Nothing.
Supercreep -- Mushroom Cloud, at Rock Insider.
Someone keeps coming to my diary via a google image search for my diary url plus belly tattoo, or something, and you know, I put pictures out knowing they'd be viewed, but for some reason that's irking me. Dude, just download it if you like it so much; then you can look at it any time you want. Yeesh.
But speaking of pictures, here's my second favorite picture of me ever taken:
I walk in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies and something something something bright, something something and my eyes. Poetry is so awesome.
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