Evil Clock.

Don’t stare at the clock.

The crazy lady at work may or may not be staring at a clock in her office if she has one. I don't even know if she has an office. She does have a mini-van though. Somewhere, someone is needlessly avoiding stereo-types, because I haven’t finished my stereo-typing post.

That clock just stares back. Slacker. Questions of advice that I should answer sit unanswered in e-mail…In gmail. Dozens of invites unused.

The morning drags on like no other draggie thing has ever drug at it’s highest dragging potential. Signs of an economic collapse do nothing for me. Usually such a thing, especially during a Republican President’s term, would have me all giddy.

Eleven days until vacation. The beach. The salt water. Fishing. All implied therein.

That clock won’t move. How can I turn the calendar, if the clock won’t move?

What’s up with Idol? Fake? As if anyone who watches will care whether or not it is a fraud. All of commercial TV and radio is fraud. Maybe a (finally) new episode of “Lost” will help. I still don’t really care about the Mavericks. I hope the win..just not enough to watch it.

The Rangers have a day game Wednesday. That’ll get me through a couple hours. I quit looking at the beach cam. I thought it would help, but it only made things worse.

Work? Right. That’s right, boss. Nope.

Ok. If I work on adding some bad grammar to this post, maybe I won’t notice the 30 minutes between now and lunch.

Blanca!!!! BBQ….neeed bbq…

This post blows. There’s no way I’m publishing it.