Came home last night after a long day of pretending to be a nurse and found that someone had snuck into the apartment and filled the fridge with healthy and delicious food. The same sneaky bastards left a beautiful painting (Robert Delaunay's Formes Circulaires-Soleil) in the front hall and washed all of the dishes I had carefully left in the sink.
Hate these post-modern burglars. Playing mind-games on a poor working pretend-nurse like me. A mocking little note was on the front door:
Dinner is in the fridge.
So, they know my name. They know that Nan and I were doing the South Beach Diet because all of the food is South Beach friendly.
Fiendish sons-of-bitches. I'll find them and... eat some fruit with them or something, I swear it.
Yesterday we said good-bye and thanks for all the fish to our favorite real-world nurse, Joy. Joy is a traveling nurse, which means she's in a family of itinerant thieves that prey upon the American people.
It means that she takes jobs all over the country, wherever she's needed. She's headed down to Newport News for her next gig.
Joy is aptly named and we'll miss her.
And in a poll released yesterday, 81% of Americans think the country is on the wrong track and the Idiot's approval rating is at 28%. Which raises the question these stats always raise:
Who are the 28% of people alert enough to respond to a poll that approve?
I asked our resident statistatician (I know that's not a real word, but it's what he likes to be called) Dr. Ephram Leistweiller to break it down for me.
He came in with all these charts and pies (he loves pie) and the upshot is that of the 28% who approve of the Idiot's job performance:
12% are oilmen and oilwomen with no children or grandchildren who show a strong dislike for military-age men and women and a deep hatred for glaciers and rainforests.
9% were unaware that George W. Bush was the President before they took the poll, or that they had the right to "vote" in an "election".
5% are malevolent beings from another world, just masquerading as humans and living off of negative emotions emitted by actual humans, something called "negatrons" in their native language, and
2% work at the White House.
So that clears that up.
Walsh was up and paying bills and fixing my phone yesterday. Starting to get back to it. They'll look at the wound today and then again on Tuesday and maybe, please god, do the second surgery on Wednesday. Then it's a five-day countdown to the Return of the Bride.
I did my bachelor days, you know. Did them well. But having to do them again at 44 is bullshit, like having to go back and take a job delivering pizzas or drive around St. Louis in a Pinto.
Did that. Enjoyed that. Kind of moved on.
Enjoy the week-end. I don't expect much news to break around here, so I may just hole up for the next couple of days and work on a MMMQ that will stump Ann.
I wonder how familiar she is with the Brandenburg Concerto?