Not sleepy

Monday, 17 December 2001

It’s one of those nights where I don’t mind a bit. I don’t mind a thing.

I made a mistake. And in the face of the quarter million, plus, plus, plus, plus, hey! plus, dollars I’ve saved the demi-grateful corporation I work for, I don’t mind telling you: I’m sorry about the mistake. I don’t think they’d take back my shoe, but I’m sorry all the same. For 15 minutes of inconvenience to many employees, I am humbled, contrite and embarrassed.

In the face of it all, though, I don’t mind telling you, I might’ve made a mistake but at least I’m not fat and I have a really pretty wife and one or two best friends who won’t turn over a missed phone call. I’ve actually got enough going to throw that fucking shoe back in their know-nothing faces. But I wouldn’t, because I really am sorry.

That’s pretty good, don’t you think?

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