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a wading-pool of splenda

I went to work a little bit late yesterday, for some reason I had the 'zone' when I woke up, just didn't want to get out of bed. I keep my laptop there and oh,oh, what's that, a bag of stale pretzel sticks? oh shit. My dog kept trying to get me out of the bed, but I have sort of taught myself how to pet her with my feet while I am typing. I have a talent there. I ended up staying at work until 11 pm (shocking yes but keep your eyeballs in place) and finally jetted out I ran into my boss coming back to the parking garage from watching the fireworks. I could tell he didn't want to discuss how I work until past his kids' bedtime while he cotton candy's it up, and I didn't want to talk about it earlier. He says, 'well I'm sure there are several restaurants open'. Yeah. In fucking Maryland at 11pm. Actually he was right, as my number 1 chronic restaurant was open and expecting me as they always do (Wendy's). There was a strange increase (about 10 times usual number) of kids of all ends of the highshool hallway bumbling about and making me wait in line forever.

I've been listening lately to a lot of 'dancy' music for some reason. Mostly funk things, like James Brown and the Black eyed peas. Why, how, and where did my brain get rewired these past few months. I am shifting like a radio knob, rolling across the musical spectrum. I can't stand to listen to my burned-into-the-screen old faithfuls like Horton Heat or Bad Religion. I think that it's a symptom of a deep need for something shallow and saccharin, like when you eat dirt for sodium's sake. Whatever it is I'm fucking bopping around my place of work like a weeble and getting a painful case of 'pod-ear'.

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