10.15.04 | 1:25 p.m.

Neil Damn You!

Money talks, but it don't sing and dance and it don't walk. And long as I can have you here with me, I'd much rather be forever in blue jeans.

I cannot get those lyrics out of my head.

I've tried everything.

And right now I am trying a can of Progresso "Carb Smart Soup." I was unaware that it was counting carbs, guess that's why it hissed at me when I dumped about 25 Saltines in it. It's all water, beef, and I think I detected a single evil carby carrot.

That takes me down to about 10 cans of soup in the desk drawer. Monday I'll take one out, digest it down, and then there will be nine cans of soup in the desk drawer.

Have I mentioned lately how much I hate my job, and more specifically my boss Meatball?

I do.

Tomorrow is the Hallmark created holiday termed "Sweetest Day." If I don't get a big heart-shaped balloon, flowers, a box of chocolates and a useless stuffed bear that says "YOU ARE THE SWEETEST!" -- well, I'll just die. Oh no, wait, I won't.

When's "Sarcastic Day?"

That's a day I could really get into.