Andare, Partire, Tornare

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short, sweet, spastic

So I was all nervous about going into work and finding a new way to make the cash register self-destruct. But it wasn't that kind of a day at all, because I wasn't on the register. Whoever masterminds the schedule goofed and we had way too many cashiers and not enough aquatic/bird/small animal people, so I had my first day as a specialty person. I cleaned nine birdcages - what bliss. I think I still have feathers up my nose. I caught and bagged fish. I played with the two parrots and helped sell the green-cheeked conure. Things were quiet. It was good.

And tomorrow I have a dental appointment! Whoohoo, spending the morning in a chair with my jaw aching and somebody prodding my gums sounds absolutly spiffy to me.

I think I should stop now. My writing is taking on a very strong spastic quality. I blame the bird poo.

7:44 p.m. - 2003-07-27

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