Jesus H. tap dancing Christ, I’m finishing a 16.5 hour shift. This is 8 hours of overtime people, hmmm...wait a minute, time-and-a-half overtime, ooh-deliciou$, LET US WORK OUT THE MATH. Okay, according to my trusty TI-82 that equates to…alright, carry the 1…no, err um, that can’t be right, hmph, maybe if I graph it and denominate the integer…okay, that's more like it. 8 hours of overtime, at time-and-half, equates to 1 wasted life. Well, that’s a little disheartening.

Alright, based on this plans for the future should include:

1.) Taking GRE/GMAT

2.) Purchasing less depressing calculator

3.) Dating a domestic-exotic (brown-eyed, blonde girl)

4.) Climb Nevada Falls in Yosemite National Park.

Christ, I hope I don’t get them mixed up and…

1.) Climb a less depressing calculator

2.) Start courting the GRE/GMAT

3.) Watch a domestic-exotic fall in love with Nevada.

What I should do is, convince a domestic-exotic to date me by luring her in with a highly polished abacus, not take the KAPLAN GRE/GMAT Prep course and last but not least, buy a poster of Nevada Falls with my saved money! Hmm, I like this one best.

Pathetically though, I will most likely watch a domestic-domestic (father=brother type of situation) stripper named Nevada attempt long division as I stare at her 1-piece bathing suit tan lines. But hey, that's what Thursday night's are for, right?

Signing off,

One Sick Pilgrim