High Hopes

My main goal at work for the next week: do actual work. Sadly, my security clearance had to be resubmitted to I spent the vast majority of last week sitting at my desk, reading various briefings, watching videos about planes and missiles, and getting through training modules (you know the ones where you read twenty pages and take a really easy quiz?). Eventually I began paging through Quantum Leap episode descriptions (still have to wipe away a tear every time I hear that my boy Sam never returned home) and playing Minesweeper (destroyed Expert level).

Friday was a bit more refreshing, since I got away from my temporary office for an hour and a half or so. My boss calls it the Sensory Deprivation Tank - I'm inclined to agree with him. But hell, I get paid for sitting around trying to keep myself busy, so I'm not complaining.

In other news, I'm amazed at the ice cream truck that I have seen in my parking lot no less than four times. An honest to god ice cream truck; basically I had only seen them before on television, and the only instance I can remember is on the Adventures of Pete and Pete. Every time I hear its siren's call I am tempted to drop everything and bolt outside for a delicious frozen treat. But what would people say or think? I'm at a point where I've only met a handful of my neighbors so far - would they think me some kind of confectionery-obsessed madman simply because I lust for frozen novelties? With about two minutes of soul searching on the matter, I have decided my desire for bomb pops vastly outweighs my desire to mask my disgusting eating habits from my neighbors. I vow that I will run for the truck the next time I hear it beckon. If I'm wearing pants at the time, that is.