Way to go, brain scientist.

I was letting the place get to me. I felt I was entitled. I felt I had the right to be in a foul mood but you need a reason to be foul so I let the place get to me.

"Fuck him. Fuck this place. Fuck everyone." The listener knew he wasn't included in everyone, he also knew that everyone actually only meant a few select people and maybe some assorted strangers.

I decided I had enough so I pulled out my pay stub to see how much unused carry over vacation time I still had because it was about to be used. I was lazy so I pulled out a calculator as well. Seventy minus forty-two divided by seven equals four. Four days of vacation I have to use before the last day in the month of June. I tossed my calculator back into the top drawer and noticed someone left me two three packs of chewing gum. It's well known that I usually have a supply of chewing gum, but I haven't been keeping it supplied recently, someone resupplied me.

I then opened my overhead storage unit, like I do everyday I'm at work. In the overhead was an assortment of candy bars. It's also well known that I will occasionally have some candy on hand, although I haven't been buying any lately.

Some times people will make donations to the gum and candy cause but usually it's just one or the other or they will leave a buck or two, sometimes it's junk candy or just a pack of gum with a note bragging about who did what.

Today I was surprised. I was grateful for the gesture but the person I'm guessing to be the anonymous donor really doesn't sample the wares that much, it was a generous act.

Little things.

But I'm still taking four days off next week

***

The boss walked over and asked him a question. The question caused him to lash out at someone on vacation, at the way the department is run, at people's use of overtime and other things. They were all things I wouldn't disagree with but his outburst wasn't helping the matter. The boss just walked away from him after someone who overheard the original question tried to offer a solution, the blow up didn't end though.

"This place will drive you crazy." I heard mutter.

"Too late" I thought to myself.

***

I find it mildly amusing that payola is a legitimate word.

over at dictionary.com in the definition for payola it suggests that one sees the word crapola (to help understand the -ola part). At least crapola is labeled as slang.

***

"I was going to quit last night but then I talked myself out of it."

I wanted to say something but I ended up saying nothing. I wanted to say that I couldn't blame her if she did quit. I wanted to say that I would miss her if she did leave. I wanted to say it's tough to work in a place where you don't like anyone. I wanted to say something but saying them across the slightly crowded bar didn't seem right.

There are times I want to talk to her outside of her place of employment but I think her jealous boyfriend might have a problem with it. I also might have a problem with the change in relationship. The bar that is between us during our conversations maintains more than a physical distance.

***

"It doesn't take a brain scientist to figure that out."

I heard that and just shook my head.

Could a rocket surgeon figure it out?

***

What's it mean when you check your blog identity email eight times more than your flesh and blood identity email?

***

I was mostly just walking around because the sun was shining I had a glimmer of hope that it would brighten my soul. It didn't, but in my traveling I passed a McDonald's and for some unknown reason I made eye contact with the guy asking for money. The guy is usually there, that's his spot.

"Hey buddy, could you hook me up with a dollar?" I reached into my pocket for my bills.

"Thanks alot, man" he said as I pulled the paper money from my pocket. I looked over what I had. I remembered the five wrapped around the four ones. I forgot about the ten and the twenty, I got from the ATM earlier that day. I pulled a single from the larger of the small stacks and passed it to him.

"Can I have a five?" he asked as he reached.

I laughed a syllable worth and said "No"

***

I continue my walk which brought me to a rally for CORI reform. Ex-cons felt they are being victimized by having the label ex-con attached to them. They are having trouble getting jobs, obtaining subsidized housing, securing loans and the like. They were saying they paid their debt. They just want what everyone else has, to be able to live the way they want. They seemed to be saying that without reform, they are destined to go back to jail.

A former heroin addict was there, she said she has a dream to become a teacher. She wants to teach children art but she can't until her name no longer shows up on the Criminal Offender Records Check in fifteen years.

I had a hard time sympathizing with their plight. I had no doubt that some where caught at the wrong place at the wrong time. I had no doubt that it's difficult for those with a criminal record to try to continue or to start a different life. But all I could think about were those people I know who chose to commit crimes; the ones that broke the rules of society, of morality, of decency on purpose; the ones that said playing by the rules was a thing for suckers.

"It's part of the price you have to pay. You could have played by the rules but you didn't" I said out loud but so that no one could hear.

Not a very forgiving attitude definitely one lacking love. I'll work on that tomorrow.