Middle o' the road, or week

Tick, Tock. Craft show on Saturday & Sunday, and I'm just dawdling around. Of course last night I was in quite the mood when I got home, and upset Obbie, scared the cats, and generally was unfit for human consumption. Shit happens.

Today is better, at least in my head, for I'm not concerning myself with petty personnel (or personality) issues. Your Drama is Not My Drama. As Obbie says, "Eeet's not my yob, mang." Translate at will.

I put $40 worth of gas in my car the other night. It's not full. This is fucking insane. But the Chairman of Shell said this morning that they've pumped a billion bucks (in five years) into 'Alternative Fuels'. I'd like to see how much he & his pals are getting, salary and bonus wise. I guess I'm still a hippie in my Capitalistic heart, as I don't get fucking over the customers to line your pocketbook. In all this moaning and handringing about gas prices, one word is missing...CONSERVATION. Everyone would rather buy a new, more fuel efficient car than actually NOT drive. Or (horrors!!) Car Pool. It's nuts. Obbie & I would car pool if our hours worked, but they don't. He's just starting the new job (this week) and has a part time job too, and my hours are not, and never will be flexible enough to work with his. Nice justification. I guess I'm as much of a hypocrite as Suzy Suburban in her Escalade. At least the Volvo gets 23-25 mpg. I'd even be better if I'd unload the back.

Oh well. My neck hurts like hell, and I'm ready to go.

Carry on.