I must be going in to the "job" in a while. Today I'm setting up for a meeting of the "friends" of the lounge. You see, it is a historical building and all these rich old ladies have somehow made it their collective mission to protect the room. I'm not exactly sure what it is that they do. I don't think they spend their weekends buffing the floor and polishing the silver. They don't vacuum the oriental rugs or clean the windows. How, then, do they help maintain the place?

I don't know what they do. I do know that I got an email from my boss saying

The organization is The Friends of Gerlinger Alumni Lounge and they are women over 70. Please do not wear shorts.

That is funny to me. I almost never wear shorts. In fact, the only times I've been wearing shorts recently (last two years) have been the days in the last month in which I've run. Speaking of running...my legs are a bit sore from last night, but nothing major. The Good Roommate and I are going to run again tonight. Then we are going to check out our neighborhood bar. It is called The Old Pad. Sounds pretty awesome to me. Well, gotta jump in the shower.

At least I have something to keep me away from my computer all day long. Even if I can't wear shorts.

PS -- The Good Roommate just got out of the shower. He told me that it was all mine. I said "You know what I have to say to that?" He beat me to my punchline of "Booya." That's it, we are not friends anymore. I hate people who make me realize how predictable I am.