Today was overall lousy. Nothing special, lots of blah. Had my temporary crown reattached without incident, but still feeling common cold symptoms, though not as bad as yesterday. (My fear was an uncontrollable sneeze occurring as I lay reclined in the dental chair, mouth agape; but this didn't happen.) Weird dreams last night; one especially interesting concerned my somehow controlling not my own but a co-worker's flying car. I was flying above and behind him; I was okay; but somehow I mis-piloted his own '64 Plymouth into a severe pancake landing. Then I woke up and it took several moments of thought to convince myself that this hadn't really happened, in fact couldn't have happened since cars don't fly.

As part of my job I had to perform an administrative errand, visiting the nearby office where I worked three months last year, at the QA position I accepted in order to move back to California. Explaining how hideous this assignment was is difficult - an arcane system, incredibly boring duties, ghastly co-workers. But not seriously difficult or unpleasant work; no long hours, and if I slacked off others did the job... but still a dead-end no-future position, and a serious set-back to the recent programming career path I'd set upon a few years back. My current position is the perfect next step along that path. (Now I have doubts that I want to continue, but that's another story.) Anyway, I was forced to shop-talk with my former closest co-worker for half an hour, and it was a minor ordeal. He's a wheezy guy, kind of funny-looking, and he loves to hear what I say. Since I no longer have a badge for his facility I couldn't go in; because we were talking outside he was smoking his cigarette... when he finished that he whipped out his backup tobacco product, the round plastic "tin" of Skoal. (He chews, but I've never seen him spit. Think what that means - and best believe he smells like an ashtray!) I hung around talking with him hoping one of the few interesting people inside would appear (it was lunchtime) but no such luck. Finally I was able to gracefully disengage.

And it's still hot. Californian Septembers are always hot, but this one seems more extreme than normal - must be La Niña. All afternoon I was looking forward to a raw fish dinner at the economical "Sushi House", but as I arrived at its parking spaces I watched a grotesquely clichéd family parade in front of me. Mentally I willed them to turn left, to go instead to "Stickney's Hick'ry House", but no, in they went! To my sanctum! The restaurant's small; the thought of perhaps being in close proximity to the vibes of their suburban angst was too off-putting. Dilapidated, worn-out looking Mom; fat, white T-shirted Dad with his plaid shorts; and the two male children, the athletic-looking kind with short blonde hair. They so upset me I turned around and drove home instead, for more Chicken Noodle soup. (Which seems to have done its job; no more runny nose.)

I have a couple quirks of numerophilia:

• When I mail letters and/or postcards, I prefer to mail at least two rather than a single one. A pair feels best (but type doesn't matter).
• At the grocery store (which I visit almost daily) I like to buy at least five items. If I only have three or four in my basket, I continue my wanderings through the Aisle of Plenty until something strikes my fancy, to bring my total up to five. (A plastic bag of produce counts as a single item.)