Suffering

My contacts are very dry at the moment. No one has ever suffered this much.
On Friday, Judy came into my office and asked if I could jump start her car. I did. As I was walking back inside after I was done, I saw Mike struggling to start his own car. I ended up giving him a jump as well. I am the most magnanimous apartment manager ever.
At church tonight, Cade was telling jokes. Q: Why did the chicken cross the road? A: To get his grain. Q: Why did the coyote cross the moon? A: To get to Chicago. Q: Why did the chicken lay an egg? A: To get to Chicago.
This morning Cade informed us of this little tidbit of information: "On Friday I'm going to school, and then I'm going to sleep, and when I get up the next day, I am going to a tractor show, and I have a tractor book, it talks about Indiana."
Elizabeth was trying to instruct the young children on how to behave during church, and she asked them what not to do during church. Noah replied, "Punch Anna and take her glasses."
The entryway to the complex is a salty mess. I need to mop it tomorrow, though it'll probably just get salty again.
I keep blinking, trying to moisten my contacts. Anna doesn't like that word, "moist."
Gray.
I had to dispose of one of my favorite pairs of boxers last week. They were finally just worn too thin and had holes that were just too big to justify wearing them. It's not that having extraneous holes in my underwear bothers me. I was just not comfortable with the location of these holes and the potential for fertility altering mishaps.
The loss of my boxers combined with the dryness of my contacts leads me to wonder if I am being tested like Job, but like Job, I will not curse God though all of you, so called "friends," urge me to do so. It is for posterity that I document my trials so that future generations may read and understand.
The side of my head itches, right above my right ear.
My sufferings continue to compound.
Alice's granddaughter was arrested on premises last week for meth. I need to figure out what I can and should do about this. I really am very poorly trained and informed. I just kind of got tossed into this job.
Anna introduced her dad to the wonders of her Droid Eris and the games that can be played on it. He grew mildly obsessed with an ball/maze game.
I'm not going to lie. Anna's phone is pretty cool. Did I mention that it has an app that turns it into a metal detector? As Anna commented to me the other day, she thought it was pretty awesome when as a senior in high school she got a cell phone with a color screen.
I believe I finally have Daisy properly terrified of me. I need only stand by her crate and in she goes.
I believe that by now I have sufficiently demonstrated that there are quite a few random visits to this blog by people unknown to me. The visit and subsequent comment from the lady at the ICM (I don't particularly want to spell it out and have her show up again) have led me to consider a little more just what these people might think, should they take the time to actually read an entry. How do they take me? Do they sense the sarcasm where there is sarcasm? Do they see sarcasm where I am serious? Most likely they are completely mystified that anyone would take the time to actually write such pointless babble. I don't know whether I would rather they take me as I intend you to take more or if I would rather them take me seriously. Unless of course, you all take me seriously, and in that case, we need to have a talk. Just kidding, everything I write here is serious as death.