I am the dark spectre of death

Ron at Work

It’s very cold at my work. At least I think It’s very cold. (Cold –> Anything that isn’t “nice and warm”. My body is unable to produce it’s own heat, and incapable of storing any heat it may have been able to absorb. As it is, I sleep on a hot rock and must lay in the sun for a few hours each morning or I’ll die. So pretty much, everything is cold.) So work is cold, and so I have a thick, hooded sweatshirt I leave at work that I wear every day. Along with that I’m usually wearing another sweatshirt of some sort, a few t-shirts, and I’m still cold. All this leads to this: most of the time while I’m at work I’ve got my hood on, and I’m facing away from the “door” to my cube, so all anyone can see when looking in is this hooded figure, and possibly the reflection of my eyes in my rearview mirror. I’ve been told by more than one person that I remind them of either Emperor Palpatine or Ring Wraith from Lord of the Rings. So Max drew up this picture of me the other day, and I think it’s grand.

At the Pickwick today, Tuuk and I decided that I’m an angry and bitter man, with a heart full of hate.

It’s moments like this that I realize I have nothing worthwhile to say, and most of those things that I think are really thoughtful other people probably think are stupid.

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