Then day like today occurs, reminding one that yes, although life stinks, does not always stink to same extent, i.e., variation can occur in extent to which life, from day to day, may stink. Today strange. Strange day at work. Sally Gear = extremely tall co-worker with perpetual explosion of unbrushed gray hair. Nice lady. Many kids: three from previous marriage, four adopted. Plus, usually, one or two foster kids. Also 12 cats, nine dogs, five rescued ferrets, all living on run-down farm outside of town. Is always explaining: reason she looks so bad/ragged totally swamped with kids/ adopted kids/foster kids/pets/farm. Her husband, Sid, also tall, w/ same gray hair-explosion. When together, always laughing, leaning into each other, looking unkempt, happy, bellowing out story re latest wacky thing done by kid, foster kid, ferret, and/or donkey they keep tied to tree. When Sid comes to office to pick Sally up, will say, "So this is how they do it in the big city!" or "Say, this is one heckuva fancy orifice!" (Which is odd: Sid not country, Sid-Wesleyan grad, grew up in Philadelphia, family owned famous shoe store.)

This week, one of their foster kids selling candy bars for Swim Team. Sally has put box of candy bars in Break Area, with sign: DON'T BE ALL WET! BUY A CANDY BAR FROM TERRENCE.

Liv Van Uster annoyed by presence of candy bars, emails Sally: this place of business. How would Sally like it if she, Liv, brought in ton of magazines, encouraged all to buy magazines, for her Women's Personal History Group? Sally says sure, no problem, she can just scoot candy bars over. What magazines do they have anyway? Any about ferrets/foster kids/growing organic vegetables in limited space?

Liv emails back: no, Sally missing point. Sally being rude, making it impossible for people to decline to buy crappo candy bars, i.e., Sally letting her weird life choices overflow into Break Area.