Tuesday, Oct. 29, 2002 - 4:50 p.m.

9:30 a.m. Arrived at work this morning on time and with a much-needed much-improved attitude.

9:50 a.m. Hate my job

10:01 a.m. The Boss is having a temper tantrum because he can�t find his hammer. Each time he interrogates me as to the possible whereabouts of the hammer I reply, "Last time I saw the hammer you had it." The look of furry on his sour bloated face perks me up. He swears he never had the hammer and in fact hasn�t used the hammer in years and demands that we all search our offices for the elusive hammer. I continue my indignity by pointing to photos hung on the wall of his office and asking, "Didn�t you hang those a couple of months ago?" Infuriated he ughs several times before shooting fire from his nostrils.

10:30 a.m. To The Bosses great disappointment the staff has come up empty handed. I offered him a screwdriver found under a couch cushion but this was not received well. I�d pity him if I was just a smig less repulsed by who he is. The poor man is so unequipped to deal with the imperfections life has bestowed upon him, unable to adapt to the curves he has been thrown while navigating a course for greatness and seemingly powerless over the whereabouts of household tools. "What have you people done with my hammer?" he wails as if one of us has stolen his only copy of a home produced video porn tape of him and his wife and their boyfriend with a underage goat having unprotected sex on a sofa draped with his mothers wedding gown.

11:10 a.m. Defeated by circumstances The Boss decides to go home.

11:15 a.m. Only after watching his car pull away from the curb do I go into his office and lay the hammer on his chair. As I walk back to my office I take a moment to acknowledge and appreciate the little things in life that help get me through the day. After all a man can only eat so much sugar.

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