7.27.1999

I have returned home from work. It is almost two in the morning. Too late to cook up some chicken for dinner, so I'm having a rum and coke instead. Senor 23 would approve. I delibrately skipped going to the department meeting today at two because I'm totally fucking sick of them. I've been sick of them for years, but lately I have been absent from as many as I can without getting into some sort of trouble with Potatohead.

Most of the time I get away with it. Today I did not. I was told by my buddies Potatohead was wondering why I did a no-show, and since I wasn't there before four he assumed I wasn't coming in at all. The dick. I've told that asshole a number of times that if I am not going to make it in to work I would at least give him the courtesy of a phone call telling him so. Besides, it would be suicide to not show up for work and fail to inform Potatohead about it. All he needs is a good excuse to fire me. I'm not going to give him one.

Potatohead thinks I'm stupid. I'm convinced.

Autumn sent me another polaroid picture of herself in the mail the other day. I love it when she does that. Then I know for sure she's thinking of me and misses me. Sometimes, I'm not so sure she does. Anyway this particular picture is badass! She not only put on her super-blonde flapper girl wig, she also has blue colored contacts in her eyes and wild sparkly blue eyeshadow and lipstick on. The title she wrote on the back of the picture is, "With Love, From Mars..." Yup. I've got a crazy Martian woman for a girlfriend. I like it.