duck-shaped pain

3 March 2001
Minutae

Fairly dull last few days. The Big Project has started at work (finally), so 99% of the office is out somewhere in Nowhere, Colorado watching holes being drilled in the ground. I live in fear that something's going to go inexplicably wrong with my camera setup, though -- which means that I will be called upon to go up there and fix it. So I've spent the last few days being no more than a warm body, answering the phone (always with an air of trepidation) and doing mindless idle tasks about the office.

Went to the thrift store yesterday. I haven't been going as much as usual, because I haven't had time and because I haven't found anything good for a long time. The two things I bought yesterday may or may not fall into the "good" category, depending on my mood. I bought a brown cardigan sweater that has pictures of cacti, cowboys and fences worked into its design. It's actually pretty cool -- it's not very old, but seems purposely made to resemble a sweater from the 1950s. The only problem is that when I put it on, all I think is, where am I going to wear this to, exactly? The other purchase was a circa-1959 children's book titled Men At Work In The Mountain States -- dull, "Hey kids! Let's take a visit to the condiment factory"-type text interspersed with pictures of beet diggers, drill rigs and cotton fields. Pretty spectacular cover, though. I should scan it in and put it up somewhere.

Another trip to the sushi bar the other night -- had the usual: tuna, salmon, tempura shrimp roll. Only notale incident was when a group of out-of-town women (here on some sort of tour that involves riding around the Southwest in a big bus) demanded to see my bag. I let them look at it and they wanted to see how all the pockets work and wouldn't believe me when I told them I got it at Target. They all agreed it would be good for travel -- I told them that was sort of the point.

Yesterday, at 5 p.m., there was a new bag of plain Tim's Cascade Style Potato Chips [1] in the house. At 7 p.m., thanks to the efforts of everyone in the house, there were no more chips. A record. Those things are deadly.

[1] For awhile, they were one of the few things I missed about living in the PacNW. Then the Safeway in my town started carrying them. Victory. Potato chips have never tasted better.

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