twicketface

I was at my alma mater yesterday for on-campus recruiting. I learned of one candidate's boyfriend and home life, another's failed attempts at his own business and how it nearly bankrupted him, and that 7 out of the 11 described themselves as 'fun'.

Also, as I discovered this morning, one of them gave me pinkeye.

Fucker.

This is the second time in 18 months that I've had pinkeye. As if I'm not gross enough all by myself. And the *%&(@)ers at the doctor's office have been giving me the run-around all day today about whether or not I need to come in for an appointment to prove that I do, indeed, have pinkeye. After leaving numerous messages throughout the day, I finally find out that I do need to see the doctor. At least I can get an appointment today. I'll be curious to find out exactly what the black market price for pinkeye eye-drops are and why there are so closely guarded.

No, we don't need to make any changes to the current health care system.

Because fate exists and determines all things, I put in my 55 cents for a bag of Cheetos at lunch, and two bags fell. Not quite even, but it's a start.

Tomorrow we leave for Michigan to visit Terry and Danielle. It's going to rock. We're going to miss Mitten, but Liz is coming over to spend some QT with her. Also, I'm going to interview Danielle for my oft-neglected Interview Project and hopefully start a new initiative with that. I made two batches of Puppy Chow last night for the visit, so we should be in good shape (figuratively, of course).

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go mail some eye boogers to John Ashcroft.