How stupid am I?

I had to pick up some little kitty treats for the not-so-kitty-like Elvis and that meant a trip to PetSmart. Things to do at PetSmart: talk to the homeless kitties, look at the fish, tap on the mice cages, and gather up some kitty treats and ready myself for the checkout. Now, I don't get my paycheck direct-deposit until Friday and I don't have any cash in pocket so I decide to write a check rather than use my debit card which, when the money gets low, is for last drinks at the bar. I start to fill out the check and the nice girl asks me about my cat (What type? Stray. How old? 1, no 2, maybe 2.5. That type of stuff.) and I begin to think that she's being friendly and inquisitive beyond the call of duty for a PetSmart clerk so I'd better be cute and witty, just in case she's working her way up to something. My next move? I ask her what the date is so I can fill it in on my check.

September Eleventh.

Oh, right. Sorry.

Why did I say "sorry"? Because that's how stupid I am.

Voicemail messages and conversations I'm not a part of

I've made contact with all the expats as of yesterday. That's Matt G in from Chicago, CAR_L in Indy via AOL instant mess., ThElizabeth in Portland and Sarah in Chicago via short telephone conversations, MC in SanD via longer telephone conversation, & noraaaron in Michigan and Chester in Minnesota via my voicemail. So that's everyone that once loved Madison, at least by voicemail; good to know that we're still all connected by something more than friendster.com and cigarette debt.

As for strange connections: there is the mysterious Ben from Chicago in Illinois. Ben is the most recent offender to appear on the "Sometimes I call Aaron just by jostling my cell phone" list. Oh what fun it is to have a name with two A's and friends with cell phones and no keyguard, oh what fun. Not that I blame Ben. I don't. In a way I feel honored that I am trusted enough to remain at the head of the cell phone phonebook list even after having been accidentally called, especially when I've got such a widely known and generally accepted solbriquet. Until such time as I am relisted in mobile phonebooks as either "Kraus", "A-ron", or simply "Baby" I will try my hardest to be like a priestly doctor or lawyer-husband to all who call and leave me ten minute messages of conversations I'm not a part of. I'm not complaining, I just want it to be known that my far flung friends are having conversations that include me but only in a "hearing it over the phone" capacity. Actually it's rather pleasant, the whole people talking through a pants pocket or from the passenger seat of their care about things that I am generally unfamiliar with: people, places, or things; nouns, proper and otherwise.

This weekend is shaping up to be something of a renaissance fair, socially speaking. Karl and ChriscalledChester are making stops in Madison on Saturday so the home fires will have to be lit and the buster-calling-out will have to worked on. I'll report you deci--no wait, that's not right at all.

On the blinding light and not being saved

Alright, short version:
I smashed my hip on my car Friday night, blacked out from a migraine on Saturday, took some heavy duty pk's that night, and returned to work on Sunday. So much for the "Day of Rest". This past week has been slow and boring. I staying in and began a more concentrated hunt for employment and housing. I don't have too much more to write tonight but I promise to be more exciting when next I post. Still no babies.