Tomorrow...

Tomorrow is just another today. I heard that tonight. Makes me get all thoughtful. I am glad I have what I have.

I sat in on an interview at my company today. Some guy from town was applying for a job as an ironworker. Wants to lead his own crew within our company. Said he was tired of commuting to the big city up North for more money. Said he was getting tired of spending $200 in gas per week. The detective in me thinks about these things. The gas would amount to at least 95 gallons a week. Now, from here at my house to where he works is about 73 miles. And I live pretty central to the city itself. And they are working 4 10-hour days. So he makes 8 trips per week. That's 584 miles. And 95 gallons of gas. That's 6.147 miles per gallon. I would buy a new car. A 1-ton 460 Ford towing a 5th-wheel trailer gets about 8. Now, WTF does he drive? Punk ass lying bitch.

But the good part? I think he sold the HR guy in our company on the prospect of $19 an hour. Sweet. So he'll be making marginally less than me. Rock on. Now, where do I go to be so smooth-talking?

So, in other late-breaking news, there's this Suicide Girl Jesse that I have been talking to for quite a while now. She originally worked at my pub, but she left and we stayed in touch. All the cute shit; swapped CD's, spent hours poring over each other's iPod music, met at 'Bucks. You know how it goes. Well, we hadn't seen each other in a while, and she saw me at another bar the other night. The girl recognized my new glasses and haircut. Seems, once there is one in your life, there are many. I can't complain, and I won't. Jesse is mad tasty. She even got me the Suicide Girls book. No, she is not in it. Damn. That's OK. I have the feeling I can check out her needlework any time I like. I just need to figure out how badly I wanna fuck things up with Amy. So off I go, like a cheap prom dress... to figure this out.

-Me