Texas: day 3.106

Namaste. Oh yeah, back here in Texas. Always a little culture jolt, coming back. Keeps me fresh, just like my low-functioning car and computer. Every day is a brilliant struggle.!

On the broken appliance note, I’m starting to love the recession-depression. My friend Ross works at a place in New York, the name of which ends in HOP but is not IHOP. The other day I was waiting outside his office for him to go to dinner at my second-favorite restaurant, which is really just a bodega at 23rd and 6th. As time ticked by and the mercury/my blood sugar dropped I worried our dinner date might be delayed because of holiday backlog. But Ross came out at 5:05, saying that despite mounting piles of HOP work, he and his officemates were denied the opportunity to work overtime because of budget constraints. We ran gleefully from the HOP office like schoolchildren on a snow day, or convicts breaking from prison. Seriously, there’s nothing worse than the idea of overtime on your own time, even if it is time-and-a-half. What’s the point? Ben Franklin would be rolling in his grave if he saw what happened during the average American workday. “Drive thy business or it will drive thee,” the old man once said. “Employ thy time well, if thou meanest to get leisure.”

Well, I have a lot to do. I even made a list. Serious stuff. Bye.