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Thursday, January 12, 2006


A smell of oiled wood and moist dust

hidden in a back room, originally uploaded by trevorsc.

The days have been getting better, slowly coming up from a fantastically dismal pit the day before yesterday. At work, issues about getting decisions and juggling people. A friend is in difficult straits. The days are busy without breaks.

...The litany of things I'm willing to talk about here is long, but I don't like getting into specifics tonight -- so my bitching sounds like a list of fortune cookie sayings from the Dark Side, written by a vindictive clerk in a small room who longs to be a James Bond Villain.

Communication is impeded. An exciting opportunity is withdrawn. You will spend a day with seven surly teens.

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