Daulton didn't show up today. I'm pretty sure he mentioned something earlier in the week about a fieldtrip. I'm not sure what sort of fieldtrip a bunch of convicted juvenile delinquents might take. Perhaps it was a "scared straight" program or something.
I just grilled some chicken that I had marinated in soy sauce, honey, and Dr. Pepper. It was decent. It could probably have marinated a little longer. I served it with chili flavored ramen. Anna said she liked it. I'll just have to take her word for it.
Ramen is messy to eat. My shirt is covered in its drippings. It's alright though. It's just an undershirt.
Not having Daulton in the office kind of felt like a vacation.
Red.
We took Daisy over to the in-laws' house. Anna and her dad were supposed to work on a song to play on Sunday, but Anna couldn't find any music for it. Considering that her Dad makes everything up as it is and that she didn't know the song to begin with, she decided that it would work better if her dad just played by himself. Who knows? It could turn into an "old favorite." ("Old favorite" is an inside joke in Anna's family. I won't let you in on the joke because I am mean. Enjoy feeling left out of the loop.)
Dinner is hitting my colon.
So I don't really have much to say tonight.
As Joel noted last night, I nearly had a heart attack watching the Rockies, but they won. They have the day off tonight. There are two things I hate more than anything else in the world. Days off in baseball and by-weeks in football.
I feel like there is something I should be mentioning, but I can't think of it.
C'est la vie.
Apartment 114: Pat
The day I showed up to interview for this job, Pat had this conversation with Karen: "Is that the new manager?" "Yes" "Well, I'm moving." After hearing about this, I expected Pat to be real mean. Actually, she's been really sweet to me. She's probably in her early seventies, with long silver hair, and a penchant for wearing hats. Her hats aren't fancy old lady hats though. She wears floppy denim things. Pat has a giant rabbit in her apartment. She also has a son living with her. He's very creepy. Apparently, her son and her grandson have both caused considerable commotion around the apartment. I've been told by several residents that they have needed to call the police due to the fights Pat's family would have in the parking lot. I haven't met her grandson. I think he's in jail. I guess he would fight terribly with his girlfriends in front of the apartment. I learned from Pat yesterday, that she used to have a daughter, but she died before she could get a lung transplant. I also learned yesterday that Pat has completely removed her eyebrowns in favor of drawn on purple things. It looks kind of ridiculous.
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