I worked for a while, but I really spent most of the time goofing off. I played a few games of Joust in the breakroom, learned to play one Skatalites song on the sax, read some LiveJournals, worked on some code for threeimaginarygirls.com, and wrote a few test cases. I didn't finish though, so I'll be back tomorrow. I kind of like working on the weekends and late at night. I think that's cause I don't like people.
I'm gambling hard on the Vegas rally. I'm loaning my truck to a friend to drive down there. So, instead of paying $125 to have my bike professionally shipped down and back, I'm going to send it down in my truck. The gamble is two-fold: The first fold being that there's a chance I'll cancel my reservation on the big truck and then my friend will decide not to go, hence screwing me out of getting my bike down there. I think the chances on that one are pretty low. He seems set on going and isn't known for being flakey at all, so I think I'm cool there. The second fold is that it's 2800 miles roundtrip from here to Vegas and that's a lot of road to be sending two of my four vehicles away on.
I probably don't have anything to worry about. Chris is a good driver. He's been a professional driver. He's a reliable and somewhat responsible person. But, there's always that part of me that gets sketched when things are totally under my control. What a freak.
Anyway, speaking of Vegas, it's going to fucking RULE. It looks like a done deal that me, Simon, and Paul will all be there. The three of us have never been in Vegas together. We have a freaking blast when just two of us get together. Put all three of us in the same place and it's an apocalypse of silliness. Put all three of us in Vegas and I just don't even want to speculate about what kind of lunacy will take place. I'm pretty sure someone's gonna end up peeing in a mailbox though.
I'm pretty much done with xmas at this point. Everyone gets so irritating and obnoxious.
"Oh my! Aren't you just totally depressed that you're going to be alone on Christmas??"
"How can you stand that? I would be so sad."
"Yeah, well. You're a fucking tool."
For fuck's sake. It just doesn't mean that much to me. I'm not a Christian. I do not celebrate the birth of Christ. So, assuming that that's still what Christmas is supposed to be (just pretend...), it's really not something I feel I need to get all bunched up over. I don't celebrate Bastille Day either. Know why? I'm not French.
Yeah, I participate a little. I still exchange gifts with my family, and I still enjoy the day off (or the day by myself in the office) to sort of take stock of my life, think about what I have, and think about what might happen to me in the next year, but that's pretty much it. No insanely stressful travel, no three week vacation, no crying over not getting that toy robot I've been asking for, no 87 different versions of each different Christmas Carol, as sung by everyone from Art Garfunkel to Frank Zappa.
If you can't be happy by yourself on Christmas, then you need some help. Bah Humbug.