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Jan. 7th, 2002

I've got that sense of impending doom I get when an impossibility is coming. It's not just improbable; it's impossible, at least as currently planned. Locating a job being whoring yourself around anyway, it's not like scruples apply, but HAVING one ... that mercenary attitude is hard for me to maintain.

The easy out is to just blow off the last option, stick with what I got, and enjoy myself a hockey game on Wednesday. My dad would be pleased, since he made his thoughts on the subject pretty darn clear the last time we went to a hockey game.

But then it always takes a little risk to make a profit, right? And the payoff could be in the $5k plus range. Could. Though I'd suddenly have uncomfortable questions popping up ... just because I'm not sure I'd be proud of the answer, even if it is just business.

And here I am, stalling for time. But lunch should be good, going to the location incarnation of The Mongolian Grill.

I also need to find some time to be a little less grounded. I've been extra-realistic lately, dull bordering on banal. That's something that needs fixing.

- Pookah

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