I wish there were a way to make it all go away. To sit down in a corner and say, no, I've lost my sanity and I'm just going to sit here for a month until it comes wandering back of its own accord, and apologizes for screwing with me for so long. Then the dust under the couches and the pine needles in the bathtub and the clothes festering under the beds would be remedied by some sort of kindly matron person, and I could knit little sweaters for squirrels and the state would pay for it. I'm sure the squirrels would have all the answers, too, and if I listened to them they'd tell me that work is for suckers and life is for hanging upside down in trees and yelling at people.

I'm writing a paper on poverty and socio-structural disadvantage.

So, naturally, I'm reading about this.

No, it's ok, really, it has nothing to do with what I'm writing about. I find that if I take a little break every hour or so and surf aimlessly it helps my concentration. I'm chasing schizophrenia, today, after reading about the man who got the Supreme Court to say that he couldn't be made to take medication.

And he even has holes in his underwear, now.

things could be worse, my name could be...this

On Thursday of last week I actually went out. To a bar. With other people. Granted, it was underneath a hotel and we were the only folk in the place with teeth, but I had a beer, courtesy of Emilia, and the men (six of them) all had wings to celebrate it being Chuck's last night with us (the police volunteers). He's retiring. The wings looked dire, but Chuck got all sentimental anyway.

This week I am working all week again, the Tuesday girl didn't get her knee surgery but she's convinced the pain in her side is cancer and is trying to find a doctor who agrees with her. This, apparently, is a full time job.

It's official. Everything that happens in the mall is My Fault. The change machine breaks down? My fault. The mall isn't open past 6? Again, my fault. Your ticket didn't win the big prize? Must be, oh, I don't know... My fault?

And my personal favorite, when, on Friday the network went down, and I had to tell potential customers that I couldn't sell them a ticket at that moment... "What did you do to the machine?" Oh, hey, I broke it myself because I wanted to sit here for an hour and piss people off. That must be it. Then, they go to try and check their tickets on the automatic ticket checker, and, surprise surprise, it doesn't work. I say, again, "The network's down". They bring their tickets back to the front counter and say to me "Well, can you just check it on your machine?" Um, no. Here, give it to me. I'm just going to rip it up right here and now because you are far too stupid to be allowed to win. Money in the hands of imbeciles. Can't have any of that.