Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Old Joke: Greta Garbo dreamed she was eating a bag of grass seed. She woke up and said, "I vant to be a lawn."

I read about a woman recently with the unbearably cute habit of giving names to days. For example, Thursday becomes Friday Eve. I haven't gone quite that far, but, inspired, I've started giving Tuesday a prefix: Is it only?
What with one thing (thin full coverage mailer from a chain store new to Anchorage) and another (thin election mail [which brings up another thing, coming up is the fourth election we've had in Anchorage in the last year. We really need to find something else to do when the Aces are playing away games.]) it wasn't the best day ever at the PO. Now, I'm as compassionate as the next guy (although, I've met the next guy and I didn't like him) so I asked my supervisor today if he'd come to his senses. I wasn't surprised when he said, "No," and we had to follow PO work rules even though they know that their rules make it take longer to deliver the mail. It makes me want to take yams, my new favorite food, and artificial sweetener, move into the desert and, like Garbo, live a life of Splenda isolation.

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