Tuesday, November 27, 2001


What is it with me? I am a freak magnet. Our mail lady at work is a total freak. She's creepy. She reads our mail and describes it to me when she delivers, and when I return something to sender I get the third degree. She reminds me of a female Newman. Only freakier... you'd have to witness her behavior to fully understand.

I was approached by a neighbor this morning, who told me that if the guy who hit my sister (car accident) didn't have insurance, and wouldn't pay for damages, that he would be willing to lie to be a witness in the accident, and that all it would take is one phone call to some friends of his to ensure that he would hand over the money. 100% satisfaction guaranteed. I told him Lori had a lawyer, but he said he knew how people like that worked, and if he didn't cough up the money, he'd get a knock at his door and that would be all she wrote. I told him I'd tell Lori and quickly got the hell out of there... my God.

I feel like dog shit. My throat hurts, I am exhausted, and I am in a filthy mood. I yelled at the pharmacist at the drive thru, and then went inside and yelled at the pharmacy manager. I have little tolerance for bull today. I just want to go to bed.

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