2003-06-17 4:53 p.m.

I am writing this entry from one of my favorite places to sit: the toilet in the handicapped stall at work. I don't have much to write about, it's just that I like the fact that I can do this. I mean, how many other people exercise their right to enjoy the finer points in life like this on a regular—hehe, I said "regular"—basis? I would hate to go through life and look back on my years on Earth and realize that I missed out on great experiences like uploading to my web page with my pants crumpled around my ankles.

Yes. So, well.

Not a lot is going on in the handicapped stall, or even anywhere else in the men's restroom, here on the third floor of the building where I work five days each week. The only sounds are the few drops of pee still falling out from my urethra, the soothing whoosh of the air conditioning, and the ticky–tacky of my fingertips tapdancing on the little, white plastic keys of my iBook.

I always think it is better to leave a place when it is still fun, when the magic remains, and when you don't want to go yet, rather than to wait until you tire of it. So, that means it is time to end this little vacation and get back to work.


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