It’s hot in here (or maybe it’s that I just chugged a huge cup of coffee?), the server is down system-wide, I overslept, and I’m tired and cranky.
I put $20 worth of gas in my car this morning, and the tank wasn’t even half full. There was a long line at the gas station because some jackass was buying lotto tickets–one of each kind, no less. Why, oh why, do people need to buy dozens of scratch-off tickets at 5am? I think maybe there should be separate gas stations for people who–wait for it!–actually want to purchase gas. And, if lotto tickets weren’t enough of an aggravation, they’ve installed a hot food kiosk in the center of the main aisle for breakfast sandwiches, hot dogs, and some sort of hamburger-y monstrosity. With “fix-ins” bar. O ick. Who in their right mind buys shriveled up hot dogs from a gas station? I suspect, whoever they are, they’ve got a death wish.
On the other hand, gas in Spencer was 17¢ cheaper than in E-ville or B-ton, so it could’ve been worse. And, at the Spencer Bigfoot, you aren’t subjected to hipster music. I win!
Speaking of cars, I looked at my pay stub yesterday, to see how much my pitiful raise actually amounts to in take-home dollars. I’m still being charged for an A tag, even though I down-graded to a C. An A tag is about 3x as much as a C, so the difference is substantial.
Photo: Harriet Brown blowing drooly spit bubbles while staring at french fries
red paper boat 