A Week of Nothing

Have you ever had a week that seems completely inconsequential? The kind that when you reflect on it, it just seems that there was nothing special about it? I've just had one of those weeks. I'm a little hesitant to even post anything to the blog because there was nothing particularly exciting, amusing, or annoying enough to report. (And you know how much I like getting on the soapbox.) So instead of writing a long post about any particular thing, I'm going to write a few short paragraphs about random things.

There are three types of people that I can't stand. The first is hypocrites. The second is people who keep secrets. And I'm not going to tell you what the third type is.

A buddy of mine that I work with turned in his notice on Friday. He got a better job and is moving to another state. Oh well, it was nice knowing him. He insists that we'll keep in touch, but I doubt we will. Not that I don't want to, but it probably just won't happen. Realistically, it's very odd when one keeps in touch with one's former co-workers. Everywhere I've worked, there have been people that I thought I would keep up with for life. Very rarely have I actually kept up with anyone for more than a few months afterwards. There are exceptions, but few and far between. That's why when people leave my company, I usually tell them something like, "Well, it's been nice working with you. I know you think we'll probably be buddies well after our respective retirements, but in the likely case that we'll never see each other again, good luck with that life thing you've got going."

I hate yardwork. I can't help but wonder: If they can genetically engineer corn that can feed the world, why can't they genetically engineer grass that I don't have to water or mow and that kills any weeds and ants that try to grow with it? Or shrubs that I don't have to trim? Or flowers that I don't have to, well, kill?

I hate housework, too. It's so unfair. No matter how clean you try to keep everything, it just constantly gets dirty again. Dusting is the most unfair of all housework, I think. No matter how little you do to mess up your house--even if you die in your garage and just lie there and rot for a few weeks--the dust still builds up. I've gotten to the point where I don't dust and just let a layer build up on everything. Why bother? It will just come back. I wish that some fashionable icon would make dust an "in" thing, so that everyone wants an inch covering everything. "Wow man, this dust is awesome!"

Well, that's all for now. Maybe I'll post a few more thoughts later this afternoon