Another fantastic holiday, courtesy of the Morley family! I have a feeling they are going to continue getting progressively better now that we’ve got Taylor in the mix. I don’t know how, but I think that baby has sprinkled some of her magic baby dust and made my parents like each other. I was kind of scared how well ma n pa got along this weekend. He even sliced the blessed oranges for her!

Angie forced me to go out on Friday night to start the weekend off, but I made her buy all my drinks for me. I don’t know how I could ever be considered a cheap drunk, but in Tower I AM. Seven-dollar pitchers, shots appearing out of nowhere and A MEAT RAFFLE, which we lost, lost and lost some more. I don’t mind though, because I don’t know how to cook a ham. Angie attracted an old guy with big cheeks, which is pretty typical, and we referred to him at Class of ’86. On Saturday we beautified some eggs and I had a food coloring accident, then I made ugly purple-brown eggs. On Sunday, I was the only one who understood Father Sebastian at mass because THAT INDIAN MAN HAS AN ACCENT and no one in Tower knows about accents. Or India. I’m no exception, but at least I understood the sermon about Holi, damn it.

As wonderful as it was, the weekend in small town USA has increased my paranoia tenfold. Both yesterday and this morning walking to work, I had my hand on my pepper spray ready to flip the switch and attack. That persistent pain in the ass is lucky he’s taken the past couple of days off from asking me for a dollar.

And, uh, my boss put in her two weeks yesterday. Words can’t express how much that blows. Just for shits and giggles, I counted the number of people who have left since I started here three years ago, and I came up with fifteen. Fifteen people in a sixteen-person office. Only three were here when I got here, and two of them are in accounting. Don’t I deserve a medal or some other sort of recognition of my stupidity?