I wish I'd had a camera tonight, so I could have at least had a picture and not felt like I dressed up for nothing.

Had a stakes final tonight, and we ran 3rd and 7th. That's a decent enough showing, but it's not a win, and thus I don't get my picture taken. All the careful preparation I put into getting my outfit just right -- black shirt, black pants, gold tie, gray jacket -- down the drain just like that, after about 15 minutes. I drove around for a while, not feeling like going home, until finally I grabbed a strip wrap and a cherry diet at Sonic and drifted towards my apartment.

I guess in spite of how goofy I generally feel I look all the time, I feel different when I'm wearing a suit. It's almost a feeling of relevance, like for a few brief minutes I can pretend I don't work at a job on the very fringes of social acceptance. Like for a few minutes, someone might care how I looked tonight.

Open question: If, for $27, you could be someone else for 2½ minutes, would you do it? Maybe I'll explain that more next time I post. Maybe.

I'm probably coming across as pretty down and out. I guess I am, somewhat. As much as I may irrationally hope, you can't win 'em all. That doesn't stop me from trying to, though. At least the lady whose dog won was very deserving of it. I'd probably be a lot more grouchy if someone I didn't like beat me, but Maxine Willis winning it... I can deal with that. She had her daughter and a few of her grandchildren out, and they all went out for the picture. It was a pretty decent chunk of change; winner took $6000 in bonus money plus regular money for winning a top grade race, spiraling down to last place taking $750 in bonus money. And since Maxine owns her own dogs, she keeps all of it for herself. Anyway, I'm happy for her.

I don't have a whole lot else to talk about. I'm not getting nearly enough rest of late. Hate to admit it, but spending two or three hours a day at my parents' house doing bookwork on top of my usual workweek is already starting to kick my ass. And in playing the part of the benevolent boss, I'm working Christmas morning. *shrug* If I were a prick, I'd've ignored the requests of some of my employees and just scheduled them in. As it is, I usually have Thursdays off anyway. *shrug again* Oh well. Hopefully they remember things like this down the road when they're mad at me.

Olivia's out cold with the flu. She's been sick since Tuesday night. She tried to work tonight, as the original deal was for her and Mark to swap Thursday for Friday, meaning Mark picked up for her Thursday and she was supposed to work for hhim tonight. She came out, and lasted about 75 minutes in the cold before she got violently ill again, but Mark offered to let her go home and do it himself since he was at the track to watch the big race anyway. So, she's going to urgent care in the morning, which means that she probably won't be working tomorrow at all, which means I get to, since Mark's doing Apache all day and won't be able to do the races at Phoenix at night. So, somewhere along the line, I lost most of my time off this week.

I don't know why I blab on and on about work on here. I'm sure nobody gives a shit. But basically, my desire to write about the weather has taken a holiday. If I could loose my brain from the fog it's in right now, I might feel like being more poetic. Instead, I'm going to go eat that strip wrap.

Come to think of it, maybe I won't. You ever get to the point where you're not really tasting the food you eat? Like you're just eating because your body says it's time to, but everything just kind of has the same vague taste? That's kind oif what I feel like. I'm going to go eat that sandwich, but I might as well eat a dish towel.

Or maybe I'll just go to bed and wake up tomorrow, hoping for a brighter day. Theoretically speaking. Brighter would mean warmer, and that's unfavorable.