Jul. 26th, 2003

So Lizbeth and I were laying in bed when she noticed some dried blood on my wrist from where I'd scraped it. It was so minor a scrape that I hadn't even noticed it happening, but it was directly over the artery. This led to the following conversation:

L: How'd that happen?
B: Oh, that's from earlier when I tried to commit suicide with a very small cheese grater.
L: Hmm. You didn't do a very good job of it.
B: Well, I decided not to go through with it when I realized that the pain of living was actually significantly less than that of a cheese grater against my flesh.


...well, we thought it was funny.


Just got back from Orlando, off to Virginia next week. Dad was right. It doesn't take long for work-travel to lose it's novelty. But this time I'm teaching a class that I've alreday taught (first time that's happened) so hopefully I'll be able to relax a bit more. Then the week after that I'm staying at home doing.. well, nobody's really told me what I'm expected to be doing, but I'm sure they'll think of something.

--Brad

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