Back to the drawing board
So, I need to highlight my two concerns of honking and signalling, just to keep it fresh. It’s still a major annoyance.
Today, I need to mention counterfeiting—although I’m not completely convinced counterfeiting is a verb (just as ask is not a noun). When I awoke, Shuttergirl (my upstairs neighbour) had the radio on in her living room (immediately above my bedroom) and the distinct baritone of Andy Barrie resonated down through my ceiling—actually, he may be tenor or bass, I have no idea. So I chose to turn on my radio and find out what was going on in the world…. Well, on Metro Morning there was an RCMP officer discussing counterfeiting generally as a lead-in to a discussion of counterfeit TTC tickets. Andy mentioned that it seems a little unfair that if he’s the chump 20 or 30 people down the line who gets caught with the counterfeit bill, he’s out the dough and there’s really no way to trackdown the counterfeiter. Although he’s an honest person, it’s more worth it for him to try to pass of the bill to some other unsuspecting patsy. The RCMP officer rebutted that as any honest citizen, though, Andy would turn in the counterfeit bill…. Really? I believe I’m an honest person, but my morals are just loose enough for me to pass off that bill and keep my cash. I have a feeling most of us are the same way. If we got caught, I’m sure we could all feign ignorance.
And I’ve been given what can only be the worst news of all time. Well, in my tiny sphere of influence and at this particular time. This project I’m working on is not going well for my former department (with which I have only tangential involvement; none of their problems are related to my work). So, Big Cracker gets to head downstairs to spend 2 weeks on the phones taking calls. I don’t remember if I went into any detail in these blogs as to my plans a little over a year ago that if I were unable to get a new job and get off the phones that I’d probably end up moving back to Saskatchewan. Gwildor managed a week on the phones before he gave his notice and he thought he could last. I know I can’t last, how will I make it 2 weeks without stabbing my pen into my jugular?