4 more days of work. 3 and some, actually, since it's nearly 4 pm. Ahhhh.
I was just wondering, how come no one ever posts comments on my blog? That makes me feel unloved. I know that some people are reading it -- don't ask how, I have my methods -- but yet only like 3 people have ever commented. What's that about?
In other news, I had sushi for lunch today and it was goooood. I ordered in because there was torrential rainfall for most of the day here. Every Friday, without fail, it rains. That's weird, right? Why couldn't it rain every Tuesday, since no one likes Tuesday anyway? Rainy Friday nights are the worst if you are trying to go out on the town, especially in São Paulo, because the city gets somehow dirtier with the rain. At least, everything floats to the surface.
I'm afraid I don't have any insightful comments or fun stories today. No bee stings or other animal bites to report. I've spent a large chunk of today thinking about the bird flu and wondering if this is a people-stabbing-each-other-in-Walmart-over-duct-tape-and-gallon-jugs-of-water type situation, or something I should actually be freaking out about. Let's be honest, I'm going to freak out anyway, thanks to articles like this:
I also blame Oprah for some of this. I mean, not for bird flu itself necessarily (but who knows really), but for my freaking out over it. She had this frightening show where a serious-looking epidemiologist or scariologist or whatever he was told us that we're all going to die and it's going to be like a horror movie and Oprah, you better reserve your vaccination now. And Oprah acted all scared. Like anyone's going to let Oprah die from bird flu. If anyone is going to be able to secure a personal supply of TamiFlu, it's going to be Oprah, I have a feeling. She and Gayle and Stedman are going to be a-okay.