Not Much Really

Well, as usual time has passed and I've had about a dozen ideas for things I should put on here and yet what do we see? Nothing. Nada. Bupkis. (How the hell do you spell "bupkis?" Oh, I got it right. . . I think there should be a 't' in there. Ah well, you can't win 'em all.)

It's been cool here for about a week. Probably hasn't gotten over 75 ONCE! Ha. This place is hilarious. Longest cool spell I can remember since I moved here. It's nice to sleep without the a/c on. Had a good weekend in the nice weather. Happy hour, gym, Lewis Black, biking, new web cam, boat work and maybe a mixed drink somewhere in there. But my free time is once again drawing nigh as another dry dock approaches.

The Summit is only a quick 4-day "emergency" dry dock but it'll still steal a weekend away from me. I suppose I should follow everyone's advice and just be grateful that I have a job. . . but then I wouldn't get to bitch nearly as much. And speaking of bitching, I'm writing this from work and should really get out of this dismal office. The nearest window from me is 80 feet away and I have to stand up like a prairie dog in my little cubicle to see over the rest of the little prairie dog homes and try to figure out if it's day or night outside. Someday I should just learn how to tell time and then look up the sunset time on the intertwebs. . . but that sounds horribly efficient and I'm sure that's the wrong path for me.

I'm not sure if the gym or the bottle is calling me tonight. Guy at the boat told me that a buddy of his drinks vodka/sprite while they play hockey. Now THAT'S dedication. Bah, I guess the gym will win out. . . damnable sensibility, I'll get my parents back one of these days for passing that trait along. I finish with a warehouse shot. Why?

Can you even see the other end of this place?! Sheesh.

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