The girl at Chipotle whose name(tag) somehow escapes me, as often as I've stared at her chest, smiles as she rolls my burrito with all the extra rice and two scoops of hot salsa, though the sight of me letting so much of them fall into my hands before even making it in—and then with the least attention to table manners, much less any semblance of evolution—probably wouldn't elicit the same reaction. I really must stop eating alone at my desk and remember what it's like to with company… I can revert to this once I'm married, right? Isn't that what couples share, how fucking ugly they look while stuffing their faces? They don't close the bathroom doors, either.

Well, until then—or in spite thereof, whatever—I'll waste my disposable income on things like Metroid DS, which interests me by offering a control scheme similar to the one I envisioned, again, for my FPS idea (the original Hori link in which seems to have broken, so I hope this will do) …UPDATE: Lost interest looking at the last one for sale in the cabinet at Target, because the cashier with the key walked away. Could be worse; earlier I got quite excited about seeking out a copy of たけしの挑戦状, but then I'd have to find the right auctions on Yahoo! Japan, write まり and offer up more of my 義理 to get her to bid on them for me. Or I could kick back with FFXI, forever.

Right, I got a renewal notice for my drivers license today. It actually asks if my vision's been impaired since. No wonder Hans Molemen plague the streets; the other day I watched as one small middle-aged Asian woman in an Avalon in front of me just hopped the curb on her way to the left turn lane. Try as I might to keep clear of her for the rest of Normandie, she'd inexplicably speed up or slow down and always be within sideswipe range.