Small Things

I had a bad night last night. Not for any particular reason. The endless menagerie of human detritus that is the graveyard shift clientele were ever present, but I can't say there were any standouts. (Besides this one guy who assumed the movie Thor was the only Thor and that anything animated or comic book related was just a shitty knockoff [you sir, can go die in a fire])

What made last night bad was that it had to sit parallel to a decent (if not outright good) day. So to recap, not a shitty night, in and of itself, just shitty when put side by side with the previous two days. It was the kind of night that made me think, "This is the endcap to my week? Really? Well fuck..."

I can't even say that the previous day was outstanding in any way. I slept a good bit (a rare occurrence indeed), went to go see Kung Fu Panda 2 (a delightful Kung Fu romp by all accounts), bought the first four Song of Fire and Ice books from B&N (something I've been meaning to do since the Game of Thrones series premiered on HBO), then spent the rest of the evening writing Max Spudwell and watching Scrubs. So, not a spectacular day, but a solid good day. Which all culminated in my eventual reluctant sigh at 9:45 when I had to drag myself up to the store.

I think you can see how this is somewhat of a let down.

What little good feelings I'd managed to save up over the course of the day (realizing I had more immediate friends than my cellphone would allow me to text all at once, not waking up earlier than I'd set my alarm, taking a very satisfying dump) were quickly drained away once I slipped on my nametag-lanyard. Somehow the idea that that thing is a noose got into my head a few weeks ago and now I just can't unvisualize it.

So, to sum up...

Bleh! I'm going to bed.