Work update:

On Tuesday, I got into an argument with my boss, Mike, over seafood. Seafood. We argued for an hour- we both just stood there, our jobs needing to be completed, neither of us wanting to back down (the basic gist of the argument was that although I feel it's not fair [humans vs. any animal] because of our superior minds, [humans vs. mammals] is way more fair than seafood [humans vs. aquatic life]). He tried to say that I was using the argument as justification for my intense hatred for seafood, but I told him it was just an odd coincidence. I won (my main point was the cow that escaped right here in Cincinnati).

Our fans are broken at work, and it's supposed to be cold. Two hours of dishes, and I'm melting. The only way I can cool off is to go stand in the freezer, and then I can't hear my music.

Ashley walked out on me the last Sunday. Normally, I do everything but sweep and mop the floors. Ashley, (3x my size in every dimension) however, decided that the mop was too heavy, and that I should mop. I agreed, assuming she would help me do the rest of the chores (even though it's 20 minutes faster my way, and all she had to do was go and ask housekeeping for a lighter mophead). So I took out a trash can, and all the boxes. She only took out one, and I asked her nicely to take out the second one (making the job equal). She clocked out and left. I yelled out to her, that she still had to finish her job, and she ignored me. I ran up to her, and she turned around and ignored me, walked out to her car. I was so mad (I took out the can, however, because I'm the bigger man, in a strictly non-literal sense). I was this *pinches fingers together* close to chewing her out in front of my boss, but somehow, I managed to be nice to her. I still want to rip out her spleen, but I guess I'm afraid of starting something and having to deal with all the associated consequences. :::sigh:::