Takin' Care of Business
So I've been ultra-productive today. Strange. I didn't think
I could be productive. But now, I'm chillin' to Green Day and trying to re-clean my desk. It was clean this morning, before I became productive, and now it's a pit with stacks of shit everywhere. So, I'm hoping that I'll be able to clean it off in the hour of work I have left. I was so involved in my project that I didn't even go to lunch. Freaky.
Tonight, I dine on Bosnian meat pies. No one is quite sure what is in these pies, but I've eaten them before and am still alive, so it must be not too bad. They sure taste great. They use some kind of spice in the meat and it's really yummy. I've been trying to put my finger on it, so I could use it in hamburger sometime, but it's unlike anything I've tasted before....Perhaps a combination of spices I'm familiar with, but have never tried together? Hm....
Anywho--that's about it. I keep having dreams about my new car. A couple of nights ago I dreamed that it had been stolen, stripped for parts and then blown up by a missile while trying to recover what was left of it. And then last night I dreamed that it had a horrid paint job. It was like a pearl color with gold, bowling ball sparkles added by way of a plastic coating that could be peeled off. Wacky. I think I just have this fear that something bad will happen to it, since it is my first brand-new car. I know that it IS only a Chevy Cavalier, but you never know. I'm going to have to get an alarm put on it (granted, an inexpensive one), just to make myself feel better. I mean, a brand-new car is quite an investment, you know? And I obviously am already emotionally attached to it. Sad, considering I haven't even driven it yet. :) *laughs at own ridiculousness*
ADDENDUM 1 (added 5:20pm):
Yes, I am still at my office, but I just got done checking Anne's blog. I made a comment and it is just too "me" not to post on here as well. I think this is one of my better strange ramblings...
"Ever start typing without looking down and suddenly realize that you have no control over your hands? They just type whatever the hell I'm thinking. And then you get scared? Because if we have no control over them, what ELSE will they do when we're not looking? I could get in trouble for something they did without ever knowing about it! *looks around paranoid* It's like that Cake song, "when you sleep, where do your fingers go? What do your fingers know?" Isn't that weird? Hmm...Now I forgot what I was going to comment on..."