kanji

24 December, 2003
no matter how far away you roam

There's no place like a magazine factory for the holidays.

As usual, every client wants to book out of town for the rest of the month... so they've done all their homework and unloaded on our doorstep.

A veritable shitstorm of publications.

Nothing like a funeral home magazine on the eve of the holidays to put you into that feeling of... festive mortality? Thank goodness SixFeetUnder has desensitized me a little to the morbid sense of humor... or else i'd be freaking about this ad for crematoriums: "we've Urn-ed our reputation!" "Novelties for the mortuary" from "Pushin'Daisies." I'm Not Making This Up!

I guess you have to find you laughs where you can.... though i hope they don't leave this magazine in the chapel.

This is typical for this business, this time of year. If there wasn't overtime for the holidays, i wouldn't know what else to stress about. Of course, we can't disappoint the pallet manufacturing or the solid waste industries with a delayed street date for the new year.

Nor can we disappoint our new department head... fresh from VaTech, fresh from birthing the next generation of imperious Greeks. you know the type: NaziBarbie. one part JoanCrawford, one part EvaBraun, one part executioner. no sense of humour... no people skills. If i was a masochist/satanworshipper, i'd be in love.

two more hours... i won't care. in the slightest.

Good thing i've gotten most of the holiday purchasing done... the feeding frenzy of panic has begun. dropping by the less popular bookstore before work, i was wondering if i'd ever get out of the lot, again... on foot to the car. Desperate looks through tinted windshields make me... walk down the line of cars, getting a rubber-shod shark to follow me, then slide in between those parked to another row. cruel? self-preservationist? anarchist?

not very sporting, surely.

tomorrow begins the running:

...running to see Biggles & Family, before his missus flies to London, Xmas day.

...stopping by my mother's house, to pay respects, and leave her car.

...brain cell damage at Chez Slick Willie's.

then to Yoko's daughter's on Christmas day.

Merry Crisp-ness, to all.

.


hit me with your rhythm stick




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