three point one four one five nine two six five three five eight nine seven nine three two three eight four six . . .
That's all I know.
I had a dream last night that Rohini was fed up because every single guy of our mutual acquaintance was pining away for want of me, and they were all confiding in her. Most of these were fictional guys that I don't actually know (because they don't actually exist), but apparently they were all madly in love with me, up to and including the guy that worked with Rohini at her new after-school job behind the counter at a big gourmet candy store. I'd met this guy maybe twice when visiting Rohini briefly at work. (I guess I'd moved to California? Or Ro's school had moved to Maryland? I don't know.) Anyway, this new dream-person falling to my charms was the last straw, and Rohini came to me to tell me to start dating one of these guys so that the rest would stop talking to her about me. She decided which one, and essentially ordered me to ask him out. My response was along the lines of "Why should I do what you tell me to do?" and her's was "Because I said so, that's why." Which was, somehow, a good enough answer. Of course, my dreams always end before they reach any sort of conclusion, so I can't tell you how the storyline was to have played out.
There's this old guy at work who makes deliveries at night, and who I see maybe two or three times a week, when he walks past my desk just before I turn off the phones and lock the front doors. He always always warns me to be careful driving home because the roads are icy or the roads are wet or it's really windy or there's a lot of traffic on I-95 or it's cold out or . . . or any number of other reasons. There's always something in particular that is dangerous and about which I ought to be warned. And I know that he means well, but it's extremely unnecessary- and rather irritating. I know that the roads are wet, because it's been raining all day. And it's not really all that cold out, considering the winter that just ended.
Of course, reading over what I just wrote, it merely seems foolish of me to be annoyed. Who cares if the man tells me to be careful? He's just being nice! What can I say? It's annoying. You'll just have to take my word for it.
Hmm . . . in a less self-centered vein, Michael Palin is really cool.