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Sunday, Dec. 04, 2005 - 9:33 p.m.

My semester is finally OVER. It is actually a giant pain in the ass to take just one class instead of being a full-time student. The constant engaging of the brain clutch is hard, as is the physical running around between work and class and library and home. So I am happy for a temporary respite.

I am still interested in being a librarian, I think, but I have at least another semester to think about it before I decide to quit my job and go for the schooling thing full-tilt all over again.

I have actually been enjoying my job lately. It's gotten much more challenging, as I'm all of a sudden writing training materials and getting ready to write a proposal for a big contract coming out soon. I used to just edit and stroke egos. But I remember every few days that I have to quit one of these days. On Friday we had to fill out lengthy anonymous job satisfaction surveys, and there were a bunch of questions about whether I was proud to work for the company. I like my job and the people around me, but no, I am not proud to work for a giant insurance conglomerate with a scary lobbying agenda. Sooner or later, I'm not going to be able to do this anymore. I can be proud of a library.

Anyway, I finished class, played a sort of ugly show last night, and took L to the airport this afternoon, so I am blissfully alone and free of obligations for a few days. He is in Ohio. I am just finishing my fourth beer and my fourth consecutive hour of looking at stupid stuff on the internet. It is raining. I am all kinds of happy with the world.

It's been like old internet times tonight. I honestly cannot account for the last four hours except that I read an epic Something Awful* thread** and some long articles about intelligent design. I'm down to only three open tabs now, but there must have been thirty at some point. It's like passive free association. It's not a good way for my brain to work all the time, but it has been good for today.

*This is a sure sign that tonight was like old times. I haven't looked at SA in two years. It was fun.

**It was the one about the guy whose wife bought a giant purple strap-on named Frankie. There was tequila. And poetry.

About the show last night: the crowd was not huge, but they were very drunk, and one of our number took a microphone to the teeth. Really hard. We were not punk rock enough to finish the song when he fell to the floor clutching his face. No lasting damage -- just a little blood -- but it gave the night kind of a threatening tone.

That reminds me of a question: If you run across the blog or journal of one of your friends and begin reading it regularly, do you have to tell them? Like, say, someone you are in a band with and completely adore but are not best friends with? It feels a little like a violation. But it's on the internet, so it shouldn't. I don't know whether to say anything or not.

So I guess this is one of those unfunny posts where I just sort of reassure you that I am still alive and capable of semi-rational thought. I don't love this kind of post coming from me, but I love it when Bettina and Isaac and the rest of you do it, so here is mine. I miss you all. I will be doing this a bit more over the next few weeks.

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