Although I was in a good mood when I left work yesterday, I was pretty tired. Mrs. Fungus got home a bit after I did, and we sat together on the sofa and watched an old Twilight Zone episode. After that, we went to bed, because we were both pretty well fried.
I slept like a man drugged; when I got up today I could have used more sack time--but instead I got going and went to work, and was there until after 10:30 PM, as scheduled.
It sure is nice to have a job. I'm not even being mildly sarcastic about that; every time I start to complain about something to do with my job I add, ...and you're getting paid for it, and then I smile.
So tonight I was standing there at work with nothing to do, and my feet were hurting, and I was glad to be employed and doing something that employs my skills and experience even though, technically, it wasn't really doing much of anything tonight. It seems as if people don't bring their computers in for service on weekend nights. Well, who's to blame them? But it means that Sunday and Monday are the busiest days for us, just because of how people tend to do things.
No matter, though. Mine's not to reason why.
I did finally get some things to do around 9 PM, which carried me through to quittin' time, and as tomorrow is Sunday I know I'll be fairly busy, so I've got that going for me.
Even better: it's Advent now, and that means choir will be ramping up to do Christmas music. I'm not sure when we're doing our cantata, but soon, soon...and it's going to mean extra practice nights at church as well. I'm looking forward to it; Christmas season is the best time to be in choir.
And with the coming of the new year I'll begin serving on the Trustees Committee at work, which will also be fun. I mean, I expect it to be work, but it'll be fun to take part in it, too.
How much fun can a man have?
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The corrupting influence of money even extends to science. Look: government funding of science is fine as long as government has no influence on what the scientists find. The instant the government starts suppressing findings it doesn't like, though, you're no longer doing science but producing propaganda.
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My feet hurt. Well, I expected that. And anyway, I'm getting paid for it.