Something…. or maybe someone…. keeps cleaning the solar panels on the Martian explorers. The notion that some bizarre Martian lifeform is deciding that the panels need a good dusting is too bizarre not to share. Current Nasa thinking is dust devils. Oh come one, you KNOW there’s life on Mars. They’re just… hiding. And the reason they’re dusting the Rovers off is because they’re the only thing in the landscape that actually LOOKS clean when you dust it. I know how they feel. Seven maids with seven mops, indeed.
In his zeal to reduce clutter which is, as we all know, the outward manifestation of deferred decisions, Paul attempted to throw out all of the children’s books my parents gave me before my 10th birthday. I managed not to be verbally abusive in response, and I think (actually, it’s more like I hope) that I got the point across that this wasn’t appropriate behaviour. I am going to have to watch him closely. I really have to wonder about that guy…. his timing is so peculiar. The next two sentences deleted, as they could, viewed under direct light, look quite abusive.
I attended the world’s shortest meeting yesterday, during which I learned that my attendance at the next meeting wasn’t necessary. Really, can’t they all be like that? I could have kissed the VP, which would have been worse than harassment.
Consensus is that the food that replaced the food at work (we changed service providers, and now have Aramark) is quite variable and the portions are quite small. I find when it’s good, it’s good and salty. However they keep the coffee flowing in ever fragrant streams, so I can’t really complain… that part is free.
I have made the decision that I am not going to allow George W. Bush to determine my mood. Riverbend posted about his election win…. I will allow her poetry, which is quite sickly hilarious, as only poetry written somebody currently living in Baghdad could be, do the talking for me.
Watched Keith at the dojo yesterday. He flails around too much, but when he concentrates he’s quite deadly. The brown belts were learning a new kata and I found I wanted to just gawk at the dude closest to me. He was like quicksilver poured into a gi.
Katie, after some prompting, allowed me to work on her neck and back last night. She’s healing up okay but we still have to talk to ICBC.