June 5, 1997

Tino and Derrick whisked me off to lunch yesterday, and that broke up the day nicely. Work went a lot smoother, but I guess the help desk doesn't care about my lost packets because they still haven't checked on it.

Twonk arrived and we had a micro tingle. I know Tino always gets the same thing, and that's what I got this time. I know he doesn't think much of the place, and after eating that, I could see why. How on earth would sand wind up in ravioli or its sauce? Yes, sand. (and when there was no crawdaddies, we ate sand).

I got in a CD rut on the way to work today, a pleasant rut, but still a rut. I made the mistake of playing one of my favorite earworms by John Frusciante, Mascara. I just keep having to hear it again and agin.