Heh heh.

Right now, on the Encore/MoviePlex channel, there's a movie with John Wayne called "Chisum." For some reason, that just makes me laugh.

Today was not as bad as yesterday was at work. I took 109 calls yesterday. I barely stopped to eat lunch and go to the bathroom a couple of times. It was maddening. I didn't have time to blog, and I didn't have time to find my list of "Injuries That Will Insure I Get Sent Home."

Note to self: Make that list more easily accessible. Perhaps tape it to the underside of my desk, or simply slide it under the desk blotter, like I've got a centuries-old Rambaldi artifact. Fucking Sloane. I swear.

Anyway, this evening, I was having a farewell dinner with Janice (she and the D, also known in select circles as "The Guapo," are moving on up to Philadelphia), and we descended upon the CF at International Mall (yeah, Danhole knows what I'm talking about) like we just came off a month-long hunger strike. Ooh, what a good idea. I thought that I could combine the well-wishes I was extending to Janice and reward myself slightly for busting ass at work and not killing anyone. And it almost completely worked.

The bad idea came when we ate so much, we'd reached critical mass.

A worse idea came when I decided to get a slice of dulce de leche cheesecake to go.

And the worst idea showed up about five minutes ago, when I decided that enough time had passed and I was hungry enough to eat said slice of cheesecake.

I am so stupid sometimes.

If you need me, I'll be curled up in a little ball, trying to stop from turning into Violet Beauregarde (minus the pigment).