Tuesday, June 08, 2004
I don't like to talk about work here, of course. This is a journal of the mundane thoughts. My desk is in the spanish-speaking section; we must have bilingual speakers with such a large market. One of the native mexicans (we have all sorts of hispanics there) has taken to calling me "Jimmy". He at least pronounces the hard j right. It's not "hee-may" but "gee-mee". I want to correct him and tell him to call me "hi-may" like the spanish speakers might, but instead I go through an identity crisis. "Jim", "Jimmy", "James", "Jen", "Jenny", "Jennifer".
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Insert bad joke here.
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Lugging home groceries sucks ass. I wish I planned far enough in advance to get the stuff delivered more often.
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So shortly after my coffee table broke, one of my glass top end tables also broke. I cried for some time. It felt like the nest that I...
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