I’ve been watching the marathons of Golden Girls that play on WEtv after work every day.  Right now Sophia has used the ladies’ hard-earned money to buy a Cuban prize fighter and is helping him train by having him punch her oven-mitted hands.  I love her.  Of course the actor playing the boxer is about 2 feet shorter than Bea Arthur.  I know it isn’t proper to speak ill of the dead but DAYUM.  Woman was large and in charge.

Ugh, of course the Cuban boxer turns out to be a concert violinist who’s just trying to earn his way into Julliard and teaches the ladies a lesson about stereotypes.  Yawn.

I’ve been meaning to download some books on tape for me to listen to while I’m at work, as it becomes painfully boring at times.  I haven’t hung out with J.B., my co-worker and friend, since we started work there.  It’s weird.  I should see what he’s doing this week.  He’s fun, he likes to spend a lot of time alone, like me.  If we hang out I’ll probably end up going to look for woodchucks with him or something.  He’s super into nature.