So, after calling in sick (with every intention of spending a nice day in slack-off mode), I ended up actually being sick most of the day. Is the universe bent keeping me honest, or what?



Heh. That reminds me. When I was a kid, I could never understand why I should just try to be good. Being good had no draw for me - I wanted to be better than good: I wanted to be Jesus. I can recall my mother, or some sunday school teacher, telling me about the second coming, me trying to act all casual, asking "could Jesus be a girl this time?" as if I had no designs on Mesiiah-ship myself.



Later, when I was about eight or nine, I the coming of the apocalypse was one of my biggest fears. I've always been a slacker.