putting the log back in blog

the plague seems to have reached my office with a vengence. I'm doing my part, drinking lots of whiskey to stave off certain death (for the time being), but the odds are stacked against me. I think I'll request SARS masks for the department (I hear the office has some left over from that period of doom and gloom a few years back--keeps the hypochondriac at bay; the purell in every corner of the building also helps).

two down, three to go. I started having coughing fits on Friday night. I took some precautionary meds and felt fine Saturday. But first, co-worker S was out for most of last week, and now supervisor T took off mid-day. co-workers M and C seemed alright; keeping a stiff upper lip like the troopers they are. but the fear is palpable, and I palp it.

the above is bullshit, except for the part where all my co-workers are coming down with the plague (ok, the flu).

I've been trying to write a song, lately, about meeting a girl at a bus stop in front of a strip club, but it's slow going. it may be that I'm trying to write a fiction, and I've heard you should write what you know. not that I'm going to stake out the bus stop in front of Sassy's... that's too creepy for words... and perhaps I'm going at it too much like a love song, a ballad if you will, and less as an example of my wit. it's just that the music is totally like "Earth Angel" or "Oh, Donna", so it really makes me want to do it as a love song.

eh, what do I know about love...

Once more, write what you know.

So I guess I can write a song about a guy who goes to the grocery store for some supplies, and gets a 6-pack of Newcastle for old time's sake. perhaps it reminds me (er, him) of a friend I (he) haven't (hasn't) seen in a while. even though Oregon has a wild and storied tradition of micro-brewed, malty, hoppy refreshment, the import just seemed right.

I woke up late yesterday. even later than anticipated since daylight saving sprung me forward an hour. so sleep wasn't really a reasonable goal at any decent hour. the only thing harder than going to bed was getting up from it. co-worker C said I looked like I was ready for bed at about 4 this afternoon. I said I woke up ready for bed. good times...

well, guess that's all for now. back to writing my bus stop love song...