I've, for one reason or another, converted my Ontario Provincial Police rain jacket into a battle jacket.

Lovey bought me an Agalloch back patch when we saw them live, and the rain jacket was the only jacket I hadn't began putting weird decorations/declarations of taste and intent on, so I figured "What the hell? Why not?"

I had originally intended to sew it on, but after a couple attempts and a drastic fit of impatience, eventually the patch ended up being partially stapled, partially fabric glued on, then I proceeded to load it with band buttons and it spiraled out of control. I have designs on a few choice logo patches to eventually have a female sew on, seeing as the women in my life can accomplish this task without fail and without erupting into a temper tantrum.

What am I doing with my free time?

I'm old and boring, and balding and tired.

Everyone I know, have known, is old and boring and tired. Pushing thirty, or past the mark; nothing new to be seen other than grey hair and paunches, losing more teeth, and finally croaking in a state of extreme senility.

This weekend isn't nearly long enough, and I had the 4th off, as well. PTO, but I find no consolation in that. I'm still a geriatric who retained his hair color (for now; lovey is finding grey hairs already, not to mention the fact that my forehead is getting bigger by the day).

Adulthood is precisely what I imagined it to be; no fun, lot's of panic, and little time to sit and spend with a good old-fashioned hobby. But it isn't total grimness...just close enough to make you worry that everything you were is dead, and Hello Mediocrity!

Not so chipper today, you see, but one can't be merry rainbows every single fucking day. It's still a barrel of monkeys to whine and bitch and moan about how life sucks and so on.

Well, now...things have taken a turn for the Not Quite So bad.

I have a corporate gig (yes, I walked on my fast-food job for better money and self-respect), a new kitty cat, and a new lease of life, yadda yadda. Who wants to hear me be positive about anything, really?

This journal became decidedly less entertaining for me once I ceased to hate life. I wouldn't delete it, because one can never tell when maudlin black rain clouds will form, but balance takes precedence once you reach my age. Things don't always suck, right? Right. So today's entry will be loaded with implied smiling internet emoticons and other such tripe.

::Insert such tripe here::