12/10/98 -- I wanna apologize fo' da last few entries.  They've been even more terrible than usual.  This after I've been making a vow to actually improve my writing.  Oh well, promises, like laws and electronic equipment, are made to be broken...

Fuck, I can't feel my hands.  That's been happening a lot lately.  Whether it's going to work at 8 AM or going running at 8 PM, I've been losing the sensation in my hands by the time I get to where I'm going.  Make operating a walkman or typing on a keyboard difficult.  Must be God's way of telling me I need to buy some gloves. 

I have some weightlifting gloves, but I don't think that's what God means.  Ray wants to start working out again, and he wants me to tag along.  I just think he wants someone thinner around to make him look all the more buffer.  I first met Ray when he was working out almost every day, so he was huge compared to how he is now.  It was actually pretty amazing, since Ray hardly does anything anymore on a regular basis.  If it wasn't for that whole autonomic nervous system, he'd be too lazy to breathe.

Oh shit, about my yesterday -- well, after Akiyo yakked my ear off about her life, I wuz hella busy with work.  Near the end of my lunch break, as I was polishing off my fifth hamburger, the Deej comes in and tells me in this quiet, serious tone that she wants to speak with me.  My brain immediately races to the conclusion that "She found out!", even though I had no idea what she could have discovered.  So I go in, sit down, and she gives me my sixth month review.  She admitted that she wrote it a few months ago, but the she agrees with most of what she wrote then.  It was a pretty decent review, and I got a bonus, which according to her, most first-year employees don't get.  Her one criticism -- I spend too much time on the net. 

I was so stunned to find out that I hadn't committed any sort of egregious error that was going to result in my immediate termination that I forgot to say "Thank You."  I also signed my name where she was supposed to sign hers.  That's kicking off my second sixth months on a good note.

Soon after that, I get a voicemail from my dad, who tells me (after I call him back) that the speeding ticket I got 15 months ago and never paid is not on my record with the San Diego Traffic Court, or whoever the hell it is he called.  (I was doing 85 on I-15 when I got it).  So I might have saved $2000 and dodged an arrest warrant, although I'm not as confident as he sounded. Ray mentioned that the DMV might still prevent an obstacle.

So yes, I am an idiot.  But maybe a slightly better off one now.

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