Last day at Smith Barney. It’s a good thing, too. Today I made a joke about “Casual Friday,” and I even thought that it was funny. If I didn’t quit soon, I would start reading Dilbert, and understanding the jokes.
It’s weird to think about how this is the last summer I’m spending in Centerville. Hopefully next year I’ll be in Culver City, or somewhere out in southern California. (Although I found an internship in Chicago that I would like, I called the office, and talked to their head producer. She told me to send in my resume, and that she looked forward to hearing from me. Yikes!)
Saturday, my brother and I are going to have a bonding experience, and drive to Athens together for a party at Amy’s new house. Matt might come along.
Sunday is closing day of the fair, which always does a number on my emotions. I’ll probably sit in the dark by myself at the Celeste Center and watch The Sale of Champions, and miss JFB. But nothing tears my heart apart more than driving away from the fairgrounds as fireworks are shot off over I-71.
I’ve also been thinking about what I would do if I saw a UFO, or Bigfoot, or Mothman, or any other paranormal thing. I probably wouldn’t tell anyone. They would think I was crazy. That got me thinking about how many people would do the same as me, and how many could have seen something, but not shared it in order to keep their reputation as a sane person. I really need to stop reading about paranormal sightings on Wikipedia while I’m bored at work.