2002-02-23 - 9:39 p.m.

Sitting alone in my apartment on a Saturday night drinking a Pabst Blue Ribbon and smoking a butt.

Don't cry for me, I'm already dead.

We had Saturday work today. Not very fun. I crashed my computer downloading one of those Windows Critical Updates components, and I just know that it's going to cause way way way more trouble for me than one might expect.

I can't fix it myself, so it's never going to get fixed. Ever.

And if I ask about it, I'm going to get yelled at for crashing it in the first place.

Then there'll be meetings.

Oh, maybe Flingiedo doesn't really need a computer to do his job.

If Flingiedo didn't work on a Saturday for us, he never would have crashed his computer.

Maybe we should set up a computer for Flingiedo in another part of the building.

Flingiedo is(n't) doing something completely unrelated to this issue, and we don't like that. It's important enough to discuss and then pull wacky shit on him, but not important enough not to ask him about. Let's change the topic and discuss this issue for several hours. We wont consult him, we'll come to a half-hearted and instantly forgotten conclusion, and then we'll have something to interject if he brings up his silly computer again.

Not good times.

Anyway, I don't get many requests, but My S. made a guest appearance at work today, and she asked me to write about the party she threw last Saturday.

The next entry will be my best attempt at recollecting the events of Saturday the 16th.