If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

And if it is broke, ignore the fucker.

I really hate this. I hate it when I’m the stupid asshole in the story. I won’t pain you with the boring technical details, other than to say there was a problem with some order entry today. I didn’t start it but when I went to fix the problem, it still rejected the entry. I got on a conference call with a couple of women who were actually trying to help me. I got all snarky when they started asking me about the details of the order and was giving them the old, “I know that…..I’m (sarcastically) aware of that….” You know being an indignant prick.

About five minutes after I hung up I realized I’d left off one letter in the the product code and that’s why it rejected. That’s one of the suggestions they made that I managed to get all huffy about.

I deal with people all day long who are bent out of shape with me for stuff that’s not my fault and often turns out to be, actually their fault.

We have seen the enemy and he is us.

I know I’ve been lame lately, kind of hit a creative dead spot.

Cold turkey on Celexa is a really bad idea. Starting day two I started getting this sensation like chewing on tin foil or whacking your funny bone…only through my whole body. It seemed to start in my spine just below the shoulders and radiate out. It got more and more frequent. I’m so dumb it took me almost a week to figure out what it was. And then of course my script was all hosed up and I had to make a shit pile of hostile phone calls in order to even get some. And believe me I was hostile.

My girl…the red head, the one I’ve watched since she was playing on the Falcon’s varsity in eighth grade, the one who was Minnesota’s Ms. Basketball and went to Iowa for a couple of years before she transferred back, took over the game for the Gophers on Sunday. With the score tied late in the first half she stole the ball out on the wing and got out ahead of everyone for a coast to coast layup. That was the beginning of a two and a half minute run in which she stole the ball the next two Indiana possessions, once for another layup and then for an assist when she hit Janelle (Shaq) McCarville for a breakaway. She added another steal, another basket and I think another assist. I love to see someone completely dominate a game like that. And it’s even better when it’s someone from the nieghborhood playing in the Big 10.

On another note: more typical Bobness going on. Last week I came home from working out and couldn’t find my glasses. Later I went back to the club to check and they weren’t in my locker. I began searching my car and the house in earnest. I didn’t find them but I found three other pairs. I’m talking about reading glasses here…nine dollars at the drugstore…but still. Today I went to the club again and when I got ready to hit the bike, I realized that they were in my shorts pocket. So they had been in my backpack the whole time.

I’ve run out of Celexa so Welbutrin is the only thing between me and my depression right now. I think I might stay off, there are some benefits, not the least of which is a upswing in the lumber business. Another effect (benefit?) is that suddenly I’ve been having very vivid and interesting dreams almost every night.

Last night’s was a doozie. You may remember my friend Adrien, who was shot and killed in D.C. last August. I went to high school and college with him. We were close, but I never knew he was gay until about a year ago. In spite of the fact that he was slightly effeminate and loved show tunes, I never even suspected it.

Isn’t it odd when in dreams you find yourself in a situation and you have a ready made history of what’s going on, you aren’t just plopped into the scene but you know what’s going on, what lead up to the situation. We were much younger, in our thirties maybe, I was working on a project with an older gay man, maybe my age now. I brought Adrien along to a meeting, bringing him in on the project. We were sitting in the guy’s apartment discussing the details of the job, when all of a sudden they start getting flirtatious with each other. The meeting goes to hell in a hand basket while these too guys suddenly realize they’re completely infatuated. I sit on the couch wondering how these two men, niether of which obviously gay, suddenly were having a love at first sight experience. I remember thinking, “Golly, isn’t this sweet?”

Dr. Freud?

A 79 year old Minnesotan pleaded guilty today to a disorderly contact resulting from him starting a scuffle in a restaurant when he objected to a cel phone user’s foul language.

24 more years.

If you are in my office and you are reading this, get back to work.