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Written at 12:30 p.m. on Wednesday, Sept. 01, 2004

The only bad thing about this job gives me way too much time to think.

I'm used to sitting in a room the size of a closet with two other people pumping out work like I were at a sweatshop. Constantly keeping myslf so busy with projects that I barely had enough time in the day to use the restroom, yet alone think.

I dont want to sit here thinking about the ten trillion things that go through my head a day...and focusing on them.

I just dont wanna...

And just for the record Angel...I CAN kill a cactus...and I did. I think the poor guy just had an over-abundance of my negative attitude and it overcame him. I think he committed suicide. I was sitting at my desk and he just wilted over snapping his weak little stem in two.

Good times, good times...NOT!