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Lent, Liquor, and the Lottery

I'm anxious for some reason. I can't put my finger on it, but I'm like nervous, uneasy, restless. It almost feels drug induced but I'm pretty sure it's not a side effect or anything.  I don't know, it's kind of strange, I had some mountain dew but that was hours ago.  Hmm...I hope I can sleep tonight.  So tomorrow's Ash Wednesday.  I'm not overly religious, hell I'm damn near atheist, well more agnostic I guess.  I think He or Someone is out there, but I can't prove it.  Anyway, I've been building this, urge I guess, to go to Chuch.  I haven't been in one in a long time.  Probably a year or so, but I feel like maybe that's what's missing in my life.

Then I come to my senses.  Heh, who's going to hell.  Seriously though, I'm sure we all communicate with whomever or whatever we believe in, in our own way.  Still though, it sucks that I can't get out of work to get some ashes.  Or is it ash?  Whichever.  I know, I get a lot of days off as it is, but they're all secular.  Church and state, I know.  So when people are off for Yom Kippur or other holidays are they taking personal days?  Calling in sick.  How about for Eid or the other muslim holidays.  I don't know.  Maybe that's adding to the nervousness.  Guilt?  Could be.  I also feel like giving up something for Lent, I usually do regardless of feeling religious or secular.  I deny pleasure at times I guess, or maybe I like working on my instant gratification deal.  I'm bad about it at times.  It's also cool to ake some time off or ween yourself off certain things because they taste/feel better after so long.  Maybe I feel like I've got to cover all my bases.  I gave up meat one year, drinking another.  It's also usually healthy to boot.  I don't know, I mean it is tomorrow.  They're also supposed to be good for others not necessarily a punishment to yourself if I remember correctly.  Eh, so many years in Catholic school and I probably can't even name all ten commandments.  (God knows I haven't followed them...)  I guess I'll come up with something.

I still want to drink a Hurricane.

About the lottery.  I know it's pretty idiotic to play.  I mean you've got better odds of getting anal probed by aliens while hit by lightning seven times during a Cubs World Series.  Or something like that, I read it somewhere.  Don't get me wrong, I like to gamble as much as the next guy, but I've never been much of a lottery player.  Unfortunately one of our local or not so local lotteries has gotten pretty big.  Like I said, I don't play much so I have no idea how it works, but people at work have taken up collections for tickets.  Five bucks a pop, but security has one going, and so does the kitchen staff.  I'm sure others do as well, but they haven't asked.  These guys did ask and of course I joined both.  Not so much because I'm wishing for a win or even expecting one, but moreso for the fact that if by any chance the numbers do come up, I'd feel like the biggest ass for not joining up.  Could you image how you'd feel?  I'd be the only moron at work, since we've all said that if we won, we'd be out of there.  We're an altruistic bunch aren't we.  It's funny what lottery fever does to people, I overheard the main office clerks talking about what they were going to do with their winnings.

You could finish fixing your house!
Hell, you could tear it down and build a new one.
Everyone - "Ha ha ha ha!"

How about: If I win I'm going to leave this place butt-nekked.
Or: You'll never see me again!

Me, what would I do if I won?  Most likely I'd quit but I might make a sizable donation to the school.  Then I'd probably make one of my damn screenplays into a movie.  Depending on how much I won, I'd also get a few cars, a home or two, invest the rest and live off the interest.  Ultimately the dream is to do nothing.  Just like Office Space, "I'd do nothing."

Last thing, I managed to stab myself with a wooden splinter in the foot.  That foot of mine has the worst luck.  I managed to get half of it out, but the other is still in there.  Now I'm paranoid about it getting into my bloodstream, traveling either to my heart or my brain, and killing me.  

Moms can mess you up sometimes.

I gotta go, need to visit WebMd right quick, heh.

~Dr. G