June 11, 2000 — Further evidence that I shouldn't drive

Going downtown to work on a Sunday always leaves a number of bothersome images in my mind. Today, for instance: first, on the bus ride there, an individual epitomizing my reasons for never wanting a career in the computer industry picked the seat in front of me. He was carrying his laptop case like a man possessed, and he sat down and promptly opened and finished a full-size bag of Doritos and half of a 2L bottle of Coke. And let's just say he smelled like he'd been at work for quite awhile without a shower. Stupid high-tech workers.

(The main reason why this bothers me is that if not for a few bizarre twists of fate over the past few years, I would be that guy.)

Next, when it seemed things couldn't get any worse, I found more reasons to fear for the state of society. I was going to the washroom in the Rideau Centre and while I was washing my hands, I realized I could hear someone talking to himself in one of the stalls. He then flushed the toilet, and walked out still talking on his cellphone. Maybe I should just stop leaving the house.

Speaking of staying home forever, I almost killed myself driving again today. I'm sure I have some sort of subconscious death wish; there's no other explanation for this nonsense.

Memory of the day: for some reason on the drive home, I was thinking about when I was in grade eight and didn't really listen to music, and how proud I was when I heard a Guns and Roses song and thought it was alright. I felt so normal for awhile. I got my dad to buy me a couple Nirvana tapes for my grade eight graduation present and I listened to them all summer long.

Meanwhile, jumping back to before I went to work this morning, getting home from Toronto was completely ridiculous. My sister had managed to break the washing machine and my parents' camera while we were gone, and hadn't cleaned up at all from the party she'd had on Saturday night. It was ridiculous.

I'm looking forward to going to school tomorrow since I'll be able to pick up all the outstanding PostIt note contributions, hopefully. Only three more days of high school. Maybe they'll go really quickly if I distract myself with Web pages and work. We can only hope.