Work was slow.

So slow, in fact, that I was able to use the letters in �CHOCOLATE� to make 33 other words. (I was 'specially proud of "lathe.")

Speaking of work, I picked up a morning shift for today. I don�t know how wise that was, seeing as how it is 5:30 right now and I have to be in at 10. A smarter man would get some sleep. And of course, the smartest thing to do would be to have gone to sleep at a decent hour.

Work should be interesting. Look, I�ve made another word from the letters in �CHOCOLATE!� It�s zzzzz.

I am rather rambunctious at work. It�s not a trait that is exactly encouraged by my superiors. While my hi-jinks may not be very productive, I�d like to think that they�re at least good for morale. I consider myself to be following the advice I was given by one of the people who trained me, Wendell. Well, it wasn�t really advice. He said �I don�t really care what I�m doing, so long as I�m having a good time.�

And how can you not have a good time? I work with other people.

This may not seem like a huge deal, but it is to me. For the past two years before I started this job, I have not had co-workers. Graveyard shifts at the gym was just me reading. At the group home I would work with one other person sometimes, but they usually made my job harder, not easier.

I think the reason I get along so well with the other employees is because I don�t rely on any of them. I don�t need them to do my job. Other jobs that are more hierarchical, if someone is slacking, you usually feel it by having to work harder somehow. This leads to resentment, which (studies have shown) leads to drinking.

But I don�t rely on my co-workers. They do (or don�t do) their jobs, and I do mine. We joke around, play Hang-Ubie (instead of hanging a man, we use our company mascot), we discuss politics and Cheech and Chong which, (studies show) leads to getting high and voting.

I hope I wake up tomorrow morning. That shouldn�t be a problem. The most lasting thing I learned in the Army was to wake up when I�m supposed to. This uncanny ability has saved me from being too severely reprimanded at work after having set my alarm incorrectly. The downfall is, it makes it difficult to deliberately oversleep.

Reading over the past few paragraphs and the glaring lack of content therein makes me remember Neil Gaiman�s advice about �writing through the bad days.�

But, on a more pleasant note,

Happy Birthday, Kiki!

She is 21 now, so all of you need to buy her a drink�once she�s over whatever illness it was that had her violently ill and almost completely bedridden the past few days. I felt bad for her being sick on her 21st birthday, but not completely unsatisfied. After all, the real point of the Power-Hour (what we folk in the Puri-tyrannical state of Arizona refer to as the oh-so-brief hour period between turning midnight and last call at the bar) is to get the person to projectile vomit, pass out in a delirious heap, and then take incriminating pictures of the whole ordeal.

Once again, Happy Birthday, Keeks! And consider all that throwing-up training for the first few months of being 21 years old.

And on a more technical note, BlogOut has been doing this thing where it tacks not one �s� on to pluralize the comments link, but two! I�ve racked my brain for the past few days and have come up with what I think is a feasible solution:

Oh, and Miss Jaden Jewel, Pants-Down Fridays did not go over too well. Perhaps I should ask my mother to inform me before she brings guests to the house.