One of the charming/annoying things about being carless and unmotivated to commute is bumming rides off my beloved coworkers. And I say that with utmost sincerity, if it weren’t for them insulating me from the massive and dull teeth of upper management and it’s fixedent-flavored incompetence I’d have split long ago. I’ve had the opportunity for 20 minute uninterrupted conversations with people I’ve worked with for 20 months, and in several cases those are the longest conversations we’ve ever had.

Point being, this has necessitated a bit more phone wrangling than I usually engage in on a weekly basis. My usual amount being practically none.

So, I get home from a night run around the hood (6 x 30 sec sprints, uphill on pavement, fast!) to find that M’s been conversating with colleagues about stuff related to student transport, and in the process discovered six messages, none of whose existence I had previous been aware of. M was also kind enough that this state of affairs is not in fact T-Mobile’s personal conspiracy to deprive me of minor causes for annoyance and a social life, but rather is another small indication of how I am stupid. The lost messages are indeed pilot error.

Normally I wouldn’t give a shit about any of this, certain lacunae being an accepted part of my existence in the world as such. However, one message was a very, very funny one from Ed and JJ from ten days ago. I am funny, and I find it funny that I missed out on such an instance of general funniness and funitude. I do in fact answer my phone, typically in a very pedestrian and unfunny way, though there seem to be many funny moments when I am for all intents unaware of it’s existence.

Italics make me want to stab myself in the eye, but my arms are too tired right now.

Return from run; shower; phone; drink Tang; eat banana; type; type; sleep.