I sure am lucky about my workplace. I had an interesting day yesterday; I made Francis stand on something to find out where a serial number was; I almost called a customer a racist (this in response to not trusting factory trained repair personnel in furrin parts); I almost sicced HR on my boss (it’s all good, and I merely wish I could cross post the email because I think it’s one of the funniest – and tersest – I ever sent); and LTGW one-upped me in the anecdote department. I didn’t think anything could top looking after the disposal of a companion animal, but evidently I was wrong. Any evening that involves ICBC and the cops must by necessity suck worse than mine…
Anyway, I was ready for a quiet evening when I got home, and I “cooked” weiners and we watched No Country for Old Men. Yes, there are nights when my cooking is not exactly meat and two veg, unless you count ketchup and relish.
I liked the movie, but I told my mother not to watch it. Violence, you know.
