Today I was thinking of Cassandra again. She would foretell tragedy and then be forced to stand by and idly watch while all of her dire predictions came to pass. Anyone who really knows me well will understand why this has been on my mind� supposedly Cassandra went kind of crazy due to this gift/curse, until she died in the Trojan war when they brought that horse thing into the city in spite of her warnings.

Cassandra was a wuss. You�d think any rational person would get more than a little frustrated that nobody believed her, then just shut up. You�d think she�d clam up about her �gift� and just keep it quiet, silently using it to her advantage. I mean, if she knew that the horse was a danger, why did she hang around to be slaughtered? Myself, I would try to convince them, and when I knew for certain it was useless, take myself and my loved ones and vacate the premises.

I�ve almost finished East of Eden and I think I will be sorry to have it over. What a rich, wonderful story. When I read a book I really enjoy, I can barely put it down and I race towards the end� but at the same time I don�t look forward to it because when I reach it, it�ll mean that it�s over.

I was also thinking about bathrooms again tonight. I washed a bunch of graffiti off the bathroom stall door again, and it occurred to me. Why is it that when I am in a public bathroom doing the duty, I don�t feel the immediate need to proclaim my undying love for someone? Usually that�s the last thing on my mind� I�ll be too busy trying to do �the hover� to think about how much the next person who sits down needs to know about my latest crush.

We�ve had freezing rain with lightning all night. It was impressive� walked outside of work to make my way home, got 20 feet and decided to call a taxi. Yeah, like after 11 � hours of work I really want to walk in minus-zero temperatures and be pelted in the face with small ice pellets by driving winds. No, I don�t think so. Spring. April. Yeah.

I�m in a world �o hurt, too� I think it's that uncomfortable position I was holding trying to prevent that box of frozen croissants from braining me in the freezer.

It was up on the rack, and was only half on the rack, and I was unaware of that small detail. So when I moved the rack, the box of croissants starts to come down� but it�s crowded back there and I hardly have any room to move� so there I am, twisted almost in half, one hand supporting myself against the shelf and the other attempting to push the croissants back up there, and cursing incoherently. I let out probably the longest string of profanity of my entire life, using words that I blush when I hear used out loud most of the time. It�ll pass, a bath, some Tylenol, and a good night�s sleep should fix me right up.

Can you think of a more undignified way to die than in a walk-in freezer, brained by a box of frozen croissants?