Good start to the week... Pretty misty morning... Took a bunch of pics (which you can see on my flickr page). I even took long enough that New Kids came up on shuffle on my iPod. Nothing like "Hangin' Tough" before 9:00 am. At work I had a meeting with my boss for which I was, somewhat unwittingly, ill-prepared (though that is not meant to serve as any kind of an excuse - more of a statement of stupidity). That sort of thing sits with me as I consider how I could've been a better employee, nay, person (as they are my natural tendencies that lead me astray in the office and out). Of course it's valuable as long as it doesn't become the mental masturbation that I alluded to in my last post. That is, sadly, part of the problem. Too much thinking, not enough action. Anyway, it will be something to continue to work on. I don't need to dwell on it here though rest assured, it will get more thought.
The rest of the work day went well. After work it was off to the "hair Jesus". Oh woe is me, with long (and admittedly beautiful) ;) hair, I have been plenty of places to have my hair cut. From a swanky salon with head massages and some sort of patchouli-vanilla hybrid mashed into my temples to the middle of someone's living room. I have had few occasions where I felt a good connection with the person holding the sharp objects. Luckily, the "hair Jesus" came through. While my hair isn't remarkably different (sorry, no faux-hawk) I'm pleased and will be back and if someone asks me whether I believe in Jesus I'll be sure to confirm whether the "hair Jesus" counts.
I got home, opened my mailbox and found a couple of business cards... I was wondering what salesman or prostletizer had been by looking for my money or salvation. Turns out it was a constable who had been by. Turns out my place was a victim of a break and enter last night. Seems that the most direct victims of this (besides the perpetrator who seems to have cut themself while breaking a window) are myself and one other tenant. The tenant had her change taken from the laundry room along with having her clothes bloodied (yummy). Me, on the other hand, lost my bike which had lived in the laundry room for more than two years minding it's own business, not calling people names or anything. Oh my poor steed... What has become of you? Shockingly, I'm not kicking the crap out of myself for... well, for nothing because there's not a hell of a lot I could've done. Still, I feel like that would normally be my M.O. Good thing for me, it isn't. Here's hoping that I have some success in getting a new steed (not to say that there won't be a fitting memorial for Wheely). I'll be sure to let you know of any plans.