/var/log/meri

I hate Sundays. Mailing lists are dead. Newsgroups are dead. People aren't updating their journals. No postal mail. The time just drags on and on.

And while I've been searching for the damnable quote from the book referenced in the subject, people have posted just to amuse me. I do so love my friends. :) (I still can't find the quote, though.)

So, I did venture out into the world this evening (pause now to let my various and sundry keepers scowl at me). I took this daring leap because I was 1) feeling much better, and 2) I was going cabin fevery. My adventures into the world were fairly tame, really. But, like many of my forays into the outside world, this evening provided me with more amusement from the sheer randomness of life. For some reason, I seem to have some sort of filter around me that makes people either not realize that I'm standing right there, or maybe just not care. Whatever the reasoning, I end up hearing all sorts of silly things when I go out. This evening was no different.

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Or maybe I'll just get the FBI knocking on my door.

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