If a Nap Could Feed Me, I'd Sleep All the Time.

Matt Smith,

Yay for gainful (if painful) employment!

Here are the answers to your questions:

I'm in Boston at least until mid-May. I have no idea what I'm doing after that, but I'm with you on the same city thing. Chicago could be nice... I have some friends there, as I'm sure you do. And if we both lived there then we'd both have MORE friends there. And I hear there's some sweet comedy there. And if we were there, there'd be MORE sweet comedy there.

In answer to your question, "How's Boston treating you," I'd have to say Boston is not treating me. Boston is rudely making me pay for everything, including food, housing, clothing, and veterinary services. In fact, Boston has so far refused to treat me at all. I think we should break up. How dare Boston put all the financial burden on me?

I meant to tell you that the Steve dress is not a dress FOR Steve. It's actually a dress for me. It just says "Steve" on the front of it. I think it's some bizarre political thing, but to me, it's just an old t-shirt that says "Steve," and now it's a dress. Not Steve's. Mine.

I think you should make the job less dull by doing one (or several) of the following:

1. Affix the covers of the books of stamps onto envelopes, claiming you thought they were merely "really big stamps." The Asian woman who runs the laundromat that I go to asked me to explain why the envelope she attempted to mail this way came back to her. I had to use my teacher sensibilities to explain the reasons -- without making her feel like an idiot.
(Bonus: there are bar codes on the stamp book covers, too.)

2. Use crayons. I think America in its capitalism has really underestimated the wonderfulness of crayons. As I type this, I'm getting the word "crayons" visually confused with "crayfish" and that's concerning. America has probably NOT underestimated the wonderfulness of crayfish. I'd venture to guess, statistically speaking, that more Americans know what crayons are than crayfish, though.

3. Take a poll to find out how many people in your office know what crayfish are.

4. Create a system by which you only allow access to the restroom to those with "tokens." I find this to be only mildly empowering at my place of business, but it may work out better for you. Especially since you don't actually have tokens and could probably use nickels. Or dimes. Or quarters. Or those god-forsaken Sacagawea dollar coins. Your choice.

That's all for now, I suppose. I definitely think it's time for a nap.

Yum, yum... naps.
Meredith