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Inspired by the GI Joe who was brutally kidnapped by Iraqi Insurgents (a classic in "this moment in what the hell was brought to you by whatthefuck.com"), I checked out Dick's The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch at the library. I didn't think that was enough existentialist dread so I also decided that, because of the snow and my own optimism, it might be the time to finally read DeLillo's White Noise. I would've gotten some Baudrillard but, let's face it, my free time is laughable and I'm crazy to have even gotten what I did. (But crazy in a fun way.)

Speaking of the library, they still insist they can't find In the Shadow of No Towers (which was kick-ass by the way, but too short! Artie, you got two books off the Holocaust, you could manage just a little more for 9/11!), so I had to go back and talk to the billing people again. They are required to do two more searches and then we can "negotiate" replacement fees. They THOUGHT. I'm hoping they'll drop it as professional courtesy but otherwise I'll give 'em hell--I refuse to pay for their error.

Grr, argh. Other than that, it's been a laughably busy week, but largely drama free (mostly because the boys are as busy as me so there hasn't been time for bitter/bittersweet/otherwise overly-emotionally-intense exchanges). Just as well since I'll be working my ass off tomorrow and Saturday to get stuff done.

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