My Dog Used to Eat Rocks, Too

Shortest protest in my history. I made it all of about 1 day not watching Tour De France coverage before I caved. I really love the sport and have to keep up with it even if it's just 10 minutes per day on the TiVO. Plus, Big Bill at work keeps talking cycling stuff with me and at 6 foot 9 inches it's hard to ignore Big Bill.

I went to visit some recruiters yesterday just to see what my market worth might be. Nice building they're located in-- good sign. Receptionist with teeth that resembled my dog's when she'd chew on bricks and rocks. Except, this lady had black teeth to boot-- like she's been chewing on chuncks of coal-- bad sign. Recruiter is semi-polished, cute, un-manicured nails. Sorry, you're a professional female who's meeting with folks and shaking hands all day. Did you think the gnawed down fingernails would go unnoticed?

Recruiter calls me more than my first crazed girlfriend and the conversations are nearly the same:

Recruiter: So you wanna do this?
Me: Do what?

R: I want to make you a priority. Will you do the same for me/us?
Me: What the phuck are you talking about?

R: I just feel like you're not with me, something is holding you back.
Me: --shower, murder scene music from Psycho playing in head-- Um, I gotta go. --turn off cell phone, take no more calls--

I don't want to program in 1. Memphis or 2. in the summer. It's too nice outside and I've got too much energy to stare at this stuff. Perhaps I can be a lifeguard at the Y in the summer and come back to programming in the winter when it's too cold to play outside.