Something.

Oh, I'm so witty.

***

Not a lot has happened, really. Or, a lot has happened, but none of it was very exciting. I did laundry, I paid bills, I got the car fixed, I bought groceries, I cleaned the living room. I played a lot of Sims, and I played some Kingdom Hearts. I read, and I did a few crossword puzzles. Oh, and I worked. And then I worked more. And then, just for a change of pace, I worked some.

Actually, works (plural) haven't been too bad lately. At the restaurant, I'm only morning shifts now. It's better money, and even though Mary is in fact insane, I'm usually too busy to care. Two different silverware bins? Sure, why not? Taking a bus tub to the kitchen with only three plates in it? Well, I guess it won't take long to empty that way.

It's strange. When I came in at 11, and only had to work with her for 2 hours, she bugged the hell out me. She was constantly saying we should try something a new way, and she'd always be the first to forget. She somehow always managed to direct the best tippers into her section. Everything she did, she did in the most roundabout way possible, and expected everyone else to cover her slack. Except for cleaning away my personal coffee cup. That, she did every 15 minutes like clockwork.

But, when I come in at 7, it's instantly busy. I spend the first four hours without even time to think. She must still be doing the same things, but I simply don't have time to resent her for it. And my coffee was probably cold anyway.

***

The bookstore is also going well. I'm trying to think of some semiprofound way to elaborate on that, but I'm drawing a total blank. There are cigarettes, many porn mags and about 50 million books that I want desperately. That's about it, really.

***

The Jail and Bail people called me again to check on my progress, and I weaselled my way out of actually doing anything. Sorry, kids. I'm feeling a little scummy about it, but this really is for the best. Hans didn't seem to comprehend that I was asking him for a donation. I didn't ask Paul, because I knew he would have laughed at me. D. offered to sponsor me for the entire $1500, if I'd just talk to his accountant (me). And none of you selfish bastids expressed any interest at all.

The bottom line is that all of my close friends are poor people who really don't give a lot of thought to charities. We're all for them, in an abstract sense, of course. But don't ask us for money.

I thought about putting a note on the Tau exploder, but then I realized that if any of the rich alums came through, I'd be morally obligated to give $$ to all of their pet causes. So, Jerry's Kids won't get that bicycle, or new lung, or whatever it was this Christmas, and it's all my fault. Feh.

***

I was thinking yesterday (WOW! When this kid does an entry, she does an entry, my friends. This is what, the 4th topic so far today? I've said it before, I really do write 4-5 times a week. I just do it all at once. Maybe I should start writing one of these massive things every week, but then only "publish" a few paragraphs every day. It would be like a serial novel. Hmm. "Tune in tomorrow for the exciting conclusion of 'Ana Still Works Too Damn Much: The Musical'!" But I digress.)

***

I was thinking yesterday, about how I have these moments of Songs That Must be Shared With the World. I'm driving along, and a song comes on the radio. It doesn't matter, really, what song. I've had this reaction to everything from Beatles to Marilyn Manson. I think to myself, "I LOVE this song." I roll down the window, and crank up the volume as far as it will go. The effect is best, of course, if I happen to be driving through town, but the point is to be young and obnoxious. Perhaps speeding a little, if the situation warrants it. After enjoying the hell out whatever song it is, I roll up the window, turn the volume back to something sane, and continue with my everyday life.

I'm not sure why doing this always puts me in a good mood. For a few brief minutes, my car radio and I are in perfect alignment. That doesn't happen all that often. There are a lot of good songs, but hearing the perfect song at the perfect time, without even realizing till it starts that it's the exact song you needed to hear, is somehow such a momentous occasion that it must be shared with the world Or, at least the part of the world who happen to be random pedestrians. That's why the window gets rolled down. I strongly recommend all of you start sharing your cosmic song moments with the world too. You know, unless everything you listen to sucks.

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