Today I worked with this new temp who recently moved here from Winnipeg. His interests include a variety of drugs and creating graffiti on trains. Trains are apparently good because they move around so you get to see the work of others in the field from around the continent and can become well known in the graffiti underworld.

Unfortunately, he decided to briefly skim over the somewhat interesting graffiti part and instead focus on his coke habit.

I calmly took a bathroom break and, for the first time since starting work there, hid my bag in my locker.

Years ago, I told JJ that I’d like to get a tattoo but I couldn’t think of anything I’d want on my body for the rest of my life. I was standing in a dirty tattoo parlour with $60 in my hand at the time, so he wasn’t totally thrilled at my decision not to get one.

On my ride home today, it finally hit me. Exactly what I want to get inked into my skin:

Certainly the reasons are obvious but just in case
a) It’s the Half-Life symbol. You know, the greatest game ever.
b) It’s commonly used in science in general, especially physics with radioactive decay.

Hung out with Dennis for a bit tonight. When I went to tell him about my recent tattoo revelation and asked rhetorically if he knew what I decided I should get, he fucking knew. Off the top of his head, the first and only thing to come to mind was the Half-Life logo. It took me six+ years to come up with that and when put on the spot, he came up with it in under three seconds. I should get his input on things more often.

stop liking your job