april 25, 2000.

Today has not been the best of days. I have a coworker who is very nice and very smart and very pretty. Personally, I have no objection to her whatsoever. Yet whenever our paths cross professionally, she always makes me feel slighted and put upon. I have no idea why this is; I just know that when she comes by, her lovely eyes precurse my irritation.

Howsomever. The job is generally going well. Sometimes I feel strangled by the weight of deadlines, but mostly I just enjoy have a series of changing tasks to complete. It's fun to work on something that ends, you know?

I have developed a new amusing pastime. (Keep in mind that my previous amusements have included sticking my finger into the Boy's ear and subsequently pretending that I can't hear him. I have some very low standards of amusement, so bear with me.)

Whenever the Boy begins to bore me in conversation with stories of sports or analysis of science fiction books I haven't read or raptures about the availability of Brian Wilson bootlegs on the net, I initiate CPR. I lean in like I'm going to kiss him, and then I pinch his nose shut and begin artificial respiration. Screaming, "don't you die on me!" is also fun.

The Boy is equal parts insulted and amused by this. He's mostly irritated, but he has to admit of its comedic eloquence. Ha ha ha.