For your consideration.

That is a picture of a bear breathing fire. I apologize for the low resolution. The text reads, "Toasted Head Chardonnay". It's wine. A bottle of wine with a picture of a bear breathing fire. Working nights frequently yields moments during which one has to stop and say, "did that just happen?", and usually the answer is Yes, yes it did.

-Scientists knew

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I'm looking forward to this weekend being over, because it promises to be the worst one in recent history. Except maybe this next one. The smell of this entire month has thus far yielded nothing but disappointment and extreme frustration, coupled with a strong desire to kill or break something. I should take up hunting. No, actually I shouldn't, because I'd do it once and probably never again - from either guilt or laziness - and then I'd have a bunch of equipment that I'd be stuck with. What I should do instead is buy a pistole, and at times of great frustration, pull it out and fire a few shots into the air. 'Course then theres jail. I hate this month.

I work all night tonight and due to circumstances beyond my control and realm of acceptability, I would like to sleep through most to all of the day tomorrow. Consciousness promises to hold no joy tomorrow afternoon. I considered buying some Tylenol PM just to knock me out for the day, but decided against it for the fact that I don't want to get used to using drugs out of frustration. I've used the stuff before, specifically when a drastic and sudden change in my sleep schedule was required for a new job, and the stuff really does work wonders. But I'd managed to do so without any dependency, and I hope to keep it that way. Plus I don't really need that much sleep tomorrow. I simply want it.

As I followed this thought I imagined myself quite capable of becoming dependent on sleep aids, if I allowed myself too. I imagined myself unable to go to bed without them, unable to rest without them. I imagined myself building up a resistance to them, eventually needing more and more to get tired. I'm not sure how feasible that is, or if they qualify as being, "narcotic"(Tylenol PM and other non subscription sleep aids specifically). Nevertheless I saw it as possible. I have a tendency to form habits, and quickly at that.

Then I thought about people who are ACTUALLY addicted to drugs, and it was hard not to think of them as the victims. Victims of themselves, to be sure, but in a sense, still unwilling and halfway blameless. If sleep aids have a potential to be so potent, what about something more addictive like alcohol or coke? Ehg. I suppose it's all part of people compulsively needing to destroy themselves. Honda had it figured out in 1954. Drugs? Godzilla? Same damn thing.

-Blah blah blah

See how they bait their trap? I will help you spring it.

I saw a picture recently(online) of a man attempting to procreate with a giant scorpion. No really. It was captioned with, "That's it, the internet's over. Everyone go home." A recent romp of a friend's myspace profile and survey of the comments left by a heavily disturbed individual who has a thing for... I don't even know how to describe it, has lead me to this same conclusion.

Work has resumed as normal, so, you know. That's just... awesome. Apparently taking powernaps on one's break is cause for a writeup. I didn't GET written up, but I did get yelled at. I mean, I was on break. I didn't know.

This fortune cookie is stale. Also, has anybody else noticed that fortune cookies don't so much deal with the future as they do with moral lessons? Or deep, intimate truths about oneself? Like this one, this one says, "You are demonstrative with the ones you love" I think most people are, but what does that have to do with the future? I was hoping for tomorrow's weather, or at least some insight as to whether or not furnishing a cave is a good idea.

Also, if you feel so compulsed, feel free to click like a madman on the links at the top of this page. It mightbe a good idea.

-AJ

And by the way,

And friend recently said to me that words are the worst possible form of communication. This is the part of the dialog where I say, "and he's right."

And he's right.

They leave too much unsaid and too much open to interpretation. And we're ALWAYS wrong when we try to figure it out. We go nuts, and we suck at doing it. I've compiled a list of methods by which we SHOULD communicate, because animals do it, and it seems to work for them.

By scent
By dancing
With their antennae
Eyebrows
Growling
Smelling each other's butts
Killing each other

I've written a book on the subject, and Barnes and Noble will be carrying it in January. That's a lie. I've never written a book, and if I did Barnes and Noble probably wouldn't carry it. And no one would read it. They'd call it stupid. Except, for, like, that ONE guy who would read it, and love it, and tell his friends to read it, and they wouldn't because they're lazy or they don't read. He'd get like, one or two people to read it, and they'd be like, "it was alright."

-AJ

It'll be a day like this one.

Missy's funeral was this afternoon. The turnout was great - two hundred some people, at least. Cocoa has a huge Sanctuary, and it was packed. I saw a lot of people there I haven't seen in awhile, and it was actually pretty cool. It wasn't awkward or anything, even with Jackie. Jackie's a good person.

Church was good this morning.

So was lunch.

And I would like to go live in a cave. You don't pay bills and people don't bother you. It's quiet. Even the sun leaves you alone. Of course, then you figure, you have to furnish it, and furniture is unwieldy enough when you try and take it through a door. Never mind a cave. Caves - real caves, mind you - are nigh impassable. They're usually underground, and there's rocks everywhere. Big rocks. And if there's ever an earthquake, Nelly, you're in trouble. Though, if you had inflatable furniture, you could just put it in a backpack and take it where you wanna go. They have those inflatable chairs, you know. And some air mattresses could even pass as a full on bed. Lighting would be an issue too, but you've always got batteries. And they make those headlamps that run off of some special kind of stone, and water. No, seriously. Wiki it. I bet they make lanterns out of the same stuff, and even if they don't already, you could probably make one yourself. You'd just need a bigger rock.

Then I guess you might have to worry about bears, but if you go deep enough underground, what bear is going to bother? I'd think the only reason a bear would go that far into a cave would be to hibernate, and like, I know bears climb trees, but I'm not so sure about rocks. Real caving involves a lot of climbing. And if the thing's going to hibernate, he'd be asleep the whole time anyway. So you'd be like roommates. That would be awesome. Bear roommate.

Wait, what would be even MORE awesome is hibernating. God in Heaven, I would pay money to hibernate right now. For like, a month. January fifteenth is almost here. The day of destiny. The day of reckoning.
That aside, hibernating would be amazing. I'd eat a bunch, climb down in my cave, and then chill on my air mattress for a month. And I'd be unconscious! I can think of a few people who would love that. At least I think they would. And that aside, I definitely would.

I gotta stop drinking caffeine. It's poison.

Work tomorrow night. Ten hour shift. Great way to end a vacation.

See now I can't stop thinking about hibernating. I think they make drugs for that, but I guess those could also kill you. I wonder if Ebay has morphine.

-AJ

"And slam shut the jaws of oblivion."

Yesterday was a great day. I'll just say that.

Also, I'd like to reiterate that I hate pews. Pews.

Long day. Long night, too. Woke up at about six forty five. Still on Texas time. And since they're an hour behind it makes it all the worse.

Talked to my dad today. He's a good man. The best man. Yeah. Best.

Wanting to stay in San Anton. was not unfounded. I'm not sure if the grammar in that phrase was entirely correct, but I'm cool with that. It's good to be home - whatever that is - but being away from home was nice too. But you know. Florida has a Katie.

And I has a sleep.

-AJ