f there is any doubt in your mind about the
idiocy of Virginia's politicians, I can clear that up
fast.
I am at
Comet, doing the night shift. I've been working here almost a year now.
It's difficult for me to imagine having a real job where real work is
required of me. Have I mentioned that I've received a raise? I don't
think so. Yes, I'm on salary now and get $300 each week. I hadn't
requested or expected this, but it's a direct result of the thinning ranks
among the staff here.
've been thinking that these musings are
taking too much of my time. I can't crank out 13 K web pages every
night. It's too much. I need to hone my skills of concision. I was
concise back in December, but it seems graphomaniacal creep has gradually
bloated my entries. No one wants to read all the little sentences
necessary to perfectly describe a day. The general feel of the day,
complete with interesting stories and fleshed-out characters and (let us
not forget) musings is what people really want. I've been
concise for the last few days. Let's see if the trend can continue.
y mood was kind of cranky today. There are a
few projects that need doing that I've been putting off for too long.
Then there's my house. I'm concerned about Peggy. I have my
doubts that, while manufacturing another human life, she is doing any
planning ahead for what the baby is going to need. I'm talking mostly
about money here. Babies demand lots of financial resources. Peggy is
essentially homeless and she's very much unemployed. She apparently feels
that her pregnancy places her above the need to work. And her husband Zachary, who is
also plagued by thousands of dollars
of legal expenses, works less than ten hours a week. And
most of his wages end up funding alcohol purchases. As pathetic as it
might be argued that I am, at least I can afford my drinking.
I didn't get Peggy pregnant and I don't think my friendship with her is
such that I should be made to live with her foolish decisions.
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Here's a scenario I do not want to see: Peggy and Zach find the
generocity of my household so comfortable that they lapse into complete
short sightedness. Eventually the baby is born. Everyone oohs and ahs
and tells her how wonderful the little treasure is, just as she expected
everyone to do. They did with Ana, after all. Peggy feels special and
affirmed in the way that she'd sought. But meanwhile the baby,
essentially just a pawn in this psychological drama, becomes yet another
ward of my household. I didn't get Peggy pregnant and I don't
think my friendship with her is such that I should be made to live with
her foolish decisions. I've been careful to avoid living in a house that
includes a baby and I'll continue to be careful. Make no mistake about
it; Peggy needs to find a new place to live long before that baby
arrives. This belly aching on the Internet is not enough. I need to have
a frank discussion with her. But I fear that she's completely irrational
about this matter.
There were more bicycle repair lessons in my front yard and Zachary showed
yet more irritating disregard for the value of things in his possession.
Matthew bought
a half gallon of gin and I had a few drinks and then took a long and
successfully restful pre-work nap.