Saturday, August 21, 2004
At work I gouged a hole in the flesh of my index finger; it bleeds periodically. I accumulated more scars in the past eight months than I have received my entire life.
Last night I worked my last shift, which went a bit nightmarishly because the two expos decided not to show up, as some joint protest, I presume. This displeased me. It aggravated the morning expo, who remained all day. Toward the end of the night she was frazzled and the general manager finally sent her home after we'd all been bitten twice.
The Father and Terri vanished to buy groceries and run other errands until after lunch time, at which point The Father will take me to the old house (we stored my crap in the garage) so that I may pack and he may do yardwork. We leave tomorrow.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 7:45 AM]