pennant fever has caught me. as scott rolen was fielding a groundball in this evening's contest, i actually said, aloud, and loudly, "throw it away, shithead." i hope the cubs win, but they'd probably be one-round-and-done, anyway, right?

i had written about the impending hours and hours of moving and, indeed, today featured hours and hours of (unfinished) moving.

based on these experiences, i present two questions:
1.) is it okay to complain that none of the underlings (read: "...of the 'non-top two' ") had the time for a lunch break (which was experienced by the higher-ups)?

2.) furthermore, is it okay to complain that none of the top two, upon seeing strapping young lads moving desks and boxes and filing cabinets and things, ever said something like "i've ordered some pizzas...take a break" ?

(note: i wasn't going to complain until i sat down with a co-worker, a co-worker generally considered a loyal soldier, and he started griping about the lack of respect, or at least compensation, that we get from the higher-ups. opened my eyes. perhaps to potentially disastrous results.)

finally, when was the last time you had a kiwi? they're charging 25-cents per at the local grocery store, and i've binged over the last few days. i wonder if 25-cents per is a good price for kiwis.