I hate driving into Philly. Hate it, hate it, hate it!!!
As should have been no surprise, there was an accident on the "Sure-Kill" Expressway coming home. Jack-knifed tractor-trailer, in fact.
The real bummer is that the work I'd expected to be able to bring home with me... I can't. This sucks, since I really don't want to travel into the city every day.
On the other hand, I got another job lead today, this one through the same temp agency that placed me in my last job. It's with the county again, different area. And it's a bit more money than the job I have pending, the interview for which is scheduled for next Thursday.
Not sure what I'll do, yet. See if that other job can match the pay, perhaps. We'll see.
I imagine Whore-tents is probably chuckling up his grimy sleeve right now, thinking that he frustrated Elly enough to tear down her site.
Sorry to disappoint.
Well, no... I'm not. I doubt I could muster up a speck of sorry for Hoary-tense if I tried really, really hard.
In fact, Elly's diary disappearance was for a much more noble reason. Perhaps a little extreme, in Cardigan's opinion. I suspect it's a temporary state. I hope it is, anyway.
Elly has far too much to offer the virtual world to let it stay down for long, no matter what Pus... er, Gus... and his ilk may think.