People,

In the immortal words of Pete Galea, "what's crackin'?"

Over here at the MIT rock job not much is crackin' at all. Except, that is, my tenuous grasp on sanity. Much like you, I really need this four day weekend or I might be in danger of going absolutely postal (definitely my favorite expression of the past ten years with the exception of "turd burglar").

Yesterday, my boss comes into my office and asks "Joe, didn't they teach you in grade school how to dot your i's?" After I look at him with a look that he took as puzzlement, but was actually a mixture of smoldering resentment and absolute fury, he continued "you never dot your i's, didn't they teach you that?" At this point the only thing careening through my brain is "no, you asshole, they never taught me to dot my i's in grade school. In fact, they held a special class where they made me stand out in the hall so that all the other kids would know how to dot i's except me, you god damn smug old fart. And thank you for making this absolutely insignificant point in such a humiliating way in front of my coworkers, you turd burglar." Of course, what I thought and what I said were quite different. What I said was "I'll dot my i's from now." He said "good, please do" and walked away.

Life is, of course, terrible.

See you on Monday, as I'll be away from a computer until then.