Stuff.

Okay, it is after one in the morning and I have worked a fifteen plus hour day, and this is frustrating. I am, of course, thrilled by the outcome of the election, drunk on the idea that we will once again have a leader who can not only pronounce the word "nuclear" correctly, but give an entire speech without sounding like a total doofus. I feel great, I feel inspired, and unfortunately, I feel pretty damned tired. I have been burning the proverbial candle at both ends for a few months now, and both my writing and my general sense of well being are suffering immensely(Oh yeah- reading, too). I have had some funny things to say, some weird and annoying and bizarre experiences with co-workers and friends and customers that I simply do not have the time and ebergy to share. I am really trying to fix that. Hopefully in a couple weeks I will be back on top of my game. For now, I will just try to pass on a few nuggets.

1) My co-worker at the Local Liquor Store, whom I will refer to as Stan, is slowly driving me insane. He is one of those people who argues for the sake of arguing. He is a nice enough person, mind you, but he always, ALWAYS talks with his mouth full (and he eats all the time, so it goes on all night), he is forever responding first with "WHAT?!" whenever I need something from him, no matter how close I am standing to him, but somehow manages to insert himself in every conversation I have with anyone else from across the whole store. He is, to put it mildly, a person who might could use a bit of -er, counseling. My friend Matt might say he belongs in a "nervous hospital." And tonight I discovered that he actually carries not one, but two- TWO, dos, deaux, a duece- guns while at work. When I knew he had one, I was comforted. After all, we are a liquor store, we are open late, and we do have cash in there. It seems reasonable. But TWO?! Really?

Also, there is a woman at the Importer of Smoking Accoutrements who I am likely to flip out on if I don't reduce my hours soon. At least one of you knows her. She, like Stan, is a nice enough person, but seriously. She talks to her dog, repeating the same phrases over and over and then answering for the dog in a baby voice, for the first two hours of my day, every day. I'm starting to think about borrowing one of Stan's guns.

Additionally, not that I am scarred for life from my Big Box Corporate Job experience or anything, but I went in to buy some rat traps at the Big Stupid Box Store last week, and I came around a corner and saw my old buddy Grandma, and I literally jumped. And then I ducked behind a row of power tools. And then I laughed out loud at myself at a volume that made other employees and customers alike stare at me. But I didn't come out until I was sure she was gone.

How's everybody else doing? I am keeping up with reading your blogs, even if I haven't been commenting much. It's really the only thing keeping me sane, so thanks for that.