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Tuesday, June 29, 2004


Tired. Very tired. Not due to anything in particular. Okay, maybe the six hours of sleep on Friday night and the seven hours of sleep on Saturday have lead to a bit of a deficit, but no worse than usual. And I went to bed early last night... Okay, early-ish... But still! Eight hours! Of sleep!

Maybe it's the caffeine.

Wait, no.

Dear, sweet caffeine. I'm so sorry. I never meant to speak ill of you. Let's never fight again.

I have a steno pad here at the office that I use to keep track of things; I start a new page every day, and it becomes a quasi-to-do list by the end of it. Today nearly went to two pages, but it was all trivial things - reminders to order a power strip from Office Depot, clean my desk, make labels for various things.

It's been a trivial sort of day. And now the creepy creepy security guard is here to guard the office from wrongdoers - he sits here every night, from 5 PM to 1 AM, working on his screenplays, trying his best to "network" with the show's producers, and creeping out every girl here. He's a nice enough guy, he's just... creepy.

For example, at this exact moment he is reading a vanity press anthology of his own poetry. I know this, because I hear him talking about it with everyone who asks, "Hey, dude, what are you reading?" He's reading it so they'll ask him about it.

Now he's reading his own screenplay. And chuckling. Jeez Louise.

Today, I found a new cover for my cell phone for 97 cents. This is a big deal, because my cell phone is over three years old and looks it, even if it still works beautifully - the new cover is vaguely opaque and a lovely shade of purple, and you can see the lights behind the display light up. It's supersnazzy.

But in order to acquire this new cover, I had to bear the gauntlet of the guys at Radio Shack, who made fun of my dear, sweet phone and tried to get me to buy a new one. "Look at this one! This one's free after the rebate!"

"But my phone's totally fine!"

"Have you seen what the new phones can do?"

"I don't need a camera, I don't need games, I don't even need a color display. I just need my phone."

"This one has over six hours of calling time!"

"Who am I gonna talk to for six hours?"

Admittedly, my phone does get a little tuckered out by a forty-minute conversation with my parents. But the whole experience made me that much more determined to get a new battery for my current phone, rather than acquire one of the flimsy hunks of shiny plastic they hock these days.

It's as simple as this - I drop my phone on average about once a week. And it still works fine. I've reassembled my phone drunk, in the dark, while rushing to catch up with friends, and it still works fine. I know what all the buttons do (even if the lettering's wearing off a little) and I know how to program all the features. Me and my phone have gotten along great for the past three years. And here's to three more.

It's the little things that count.

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