It’s National Library Workers’ Day, and as a token of appreciation, the dean’s office handed out sport bottles with the li-barry logo on them. As I was not expecting anything, I suppose I shouldn’t complain. However, somehow, I am underwhelmed. Maybe I’d be more impressed if the water here didn’t taste like it was filtered through an old gym shoe? It’s absolutely undrinkable, unless you add Emergen-C to it, to freshen it up.
I am also T-I-R-E-D. Mr. Upstairs woke me up at the ass crack of dawn yesterday, with his television blasting away. It was my one morning to sleep in, of course. I got up and got ready to take Harriet out. As I was sitting on the couch, putting on my shoes, I heard the upstairs sliding door open. When Harriet and I went outside, there was a big splat of liquid on my patio. The jackass had dumped something over the edge of his balcony again.
Grrr. It looks like I’ll need to call again to complain. And while I’m at it, I’m tempted to bitch about the hummense Cadillac that is always parked in the fire lane. I counted no fewer than 16 empty spots this morning, when I was out with the dog, so it’s not like the car’s owner is parking illegally because there are no available spots. He just likes to park in the fire lane. The problem is that A) that’s dangerous and B) everyone who parks perpendicular to the fire lane has trouble backing out. I had to do a three point turn just to back out this morning, and even then, I very nearly clipped his tail end. Fuckwit! And, parking there creates a bottleneck, so that two cars cannot pass each other.
I mentioned that I’m tired? There’s not enough caffeine in the world to keep me awake today, so I have a feeling that I’ll be doing sleep dips soon. Hrmf!
(Photo: Electric Pole 1 April 2007)
