Bad news: until then, I have neither money, nor a proper place to live. However, because I'm an industrious soul with a Protestant work ethic of mysterious origin, I spend my entire life at work, which is odd. Companies are funny places, and I find working relationships creepy. Apparently I don't respect authority, which isn't actually completely true but I find it weird to be subservient without at least ten good reasons why. It's probably just snobbery, or too much time spent being bourgeois, but I believe that if another person does something retarded, then you should be able to yell 'Timmy!' at them without fear of serious repercussions.

Lately, I've been dreaming about mountains. I don't know. It's probably delayed-onset reverse culture shock. Or, weird dreams about mountains. I've also been dreaming about the B0dy Worlds exhibit, and I hope that it doesn't indicate a deep-seated Freudian longing to return to a room full of dead bodies, as voyeuristically excellent as it was.

In the manner of Stephen King, I've been having trouble with endings lately.