He drinks martinis, but all right.

TWO DAYS.

And best of all, my government loves me. They gave us our refund, snuggled all tightly in my little credit union piggy bank. Clearly they want me to do my part for Japan's economy.

Looking forward to hitting the usual suspects, like the Tsukiji Fish Market...



...and maybe all the cherry blossoms aren't gone yet.



Otherwise, work at the cookie factory has been ok lately. Except in very Office Space fashion I do seem to have about eight (ok, three) people over me. The peon of the bunch is my favorite, he is just the greasiest fucker. It's been years since I worked with someone who wore their modicum of authority with so much relish. It cracks me up. He was the one I had to speak with in regards to getting my shifts covered and he was a bit of a dick about it until my supervisor put him in his place. Then, I shit you not, I got an email with "Due to the fact that you made your trainers aware of your time off prior to your being hired, I am going to help you on this." Aw jeez, really? Thanks man, and here I was all about to get my knees dirty. What a douche.

Even better: "This means you will need to make up 24 hours for your time away on 3/30, 3/31, 4/1 and 4/2." And no, I don't work mini-shifts in case you're wondering, greasetrap just can't work his math. I assume I need to make up 32 hours. But hey, the big end of the times table can be a bitch, I understand.

Sorry, I'm really quite pleasant in person but every once in a while one person just really rubs me the wrong way. (And yes, I'm still nice to this person, but I can't help thinking dick every time I pass him in the halls while I try not to visibly shudder).

David Lynch is in the same city as I am right this very moment.

And I am here at home. Wah!