Just back from my lovely Sunday work routine, thinking about all the legit cookery that lies in wait due to purchase of farm share with anticipation and dread. Since I became a model worker, my cooking ambitions have fallen to rather a low ebb, maybe this will reverse that or else my fridge will come alive with the characteristic aroma of rotting high quality local produce. Any W. Mass folks interested in picking up any slack I might have in the vegetable use dept., be sure to let me know.

Anyway, it's a delightful day and I'm going to try to spend as much of it as possible outside despite still having a headache from the steel beam incident...

Watching bad anime, eating salt water taffy and trying to become more comfortable with my role of providing decorative detail work at the peripheries of others' awarenesses.

Will try to get some more work done on "Properties of the Contemporary Attentional Field and their Implications for Practice" later, I know you folks are getting impatient...

I was going to go see folk music I wasn't really that interested in, but thought better of it and am spending some quality time with the dog who just ate a chicken bone off the street (hopefully he's ok, don't want another incident).

Earlier today I was fixing Dooley's parents' computer and some commercial came on that was using "I'm not like everybody else," sadly this song has been running through my head accompanied by lots of wistful irony for weeks now for unrelated reasons and now the irony has taken on a dark, unpleasant quality.

Also my ipod appears to have decided that "Alone Again/Or" is my favorite song to hear while driving the car toward unfortunate social situations, if it happens again, which it undoubtedly will, I'll likely lose control while sobbing uncontrollably, so nice knowing you.

Been setting up servers all week, apparently miniaturization hasn't much impacted the server industry with respect to the medium-sized business quite yet as they all weighed about 150 lbs. The grit all over the floor of the server room has given me exceptionally painful dishpan hands, somebody fetch the Palmolive. Also walked headlong into a steel beam yesterday while searching for cables in our storage space, sadly didn't pass out comically on top of a pallet and have to be rushed to hospital.

Catching up on my archiving and monitoring duties this morning, a comfortable hum of routine and outdated equipment buzzing in my ears...

Just talked to Joel on the phone. First he needed a ride to the train station on Saturday, then he didn't. Also, somebody left part of a loaf of whole wheat bread in a bag with some onion skins in his mailbox.

The weekend seemed incredibly tiresome at the time, but I guess I actually did some fun things, cooked a bunch of stuff, spent about three and a half hours hanging art with Joel Sunday, went to see music Friday, maybe it was the greatest weekend ever.

Oh, gosh, well this is uncomfortable...

Just a sign of how extreme my desperate boredom at work has become, I guess.