Aside from the two mayflies being intimate on the window behind my cube, nothing much happened today at work.
I'm most of the way through Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse. For a classic, it's really breezy and fairly easy to read. I intend to finish reading it while I eat my leftover spam sandwiches. One of these days, I'm going to cause a rift in the space-time continuum with my odd combinations of food and books. Then again, I'm sure Hesse got hungry for processed meat while he was writing it.