I've got "Friday Feet"

I keep popping my feet out of my shoes and wiggling my toes around beneath my desk, eager to go barefoot for the rest of the day. Luckily, my place of employ is a fairly liberal place as far as podiatric expression is concerned. Actually, my place of employ is fairly liberal as far as most things are concerned (including, but not limited to: NERF football tournaments between cubicles, fly fishing in the middle of the creative department, the inclusion of a "swear trough" in the lunchroom, and the opinion that watching LOST is still a good idea.)

In-san-it-ry.

I'm schlumping myself out of bed at a cracking early time tomorrow so I can get a good seat at the license branch. 'Finally getting my plates and registration. I was considering getting one of those customizable plates with truncated phonetic sayings on it -- like Houseluvr, Egoc3ntric, or YourAdHere -- but I think I'm just going to opt for something that an inmate at the state prison has arbitrarily stamped out. I'm still in love with my car. I'm still in love with my car's trunk space. Ngggh.

I got paid today. 'Think I'm going to buy the second season of The X-Files.

-- And some Sour Straws. And a new yo-yo.