I always hate February. It is a shitbrick of a month. All the worst things that have happened to me have always seem to happen in F'ing February.
Groundhog day has been a harbinger in the past. Weirdness always seems to happen on that day. Not Bill Murray sized Groundhog Day weirdness, but weird enough.
Today I was sitting at work whining about Star Trek: Enterprise being cancelled when I found out a guy I worked with at my last job killed himself. His daughter killed herself two days earlier. I remember him as that really tall handsome guy on the development team. I have no idea what the details are. I feel guilty because the net effect is that I have been counting my blessings. I can't believe how lucky I am.
--All this and I also discovered that the shoes are still out there, The shoes...
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