At least it's not Monday. Today was a slow day at work. Being in-between quarters, there are not a lot of new orders coming in to be requested, nor electronic documents to be sent. One of my colleagues seems to have spent the better part of the afternoon wrangling with the IRS. I think he said they received his payment but not his tax forms. Yes, our tax dollars (and post offal) at work.

Which reminds me of yet another one of the thousand-and-one reasons I cannot stand George Bush:

From the Baltimore Sun [excerpt]:

Bush detainee plan OK'd by Senate

Bill creates military tribunals, offers leeway on interrogation tactics

By Anne Plummer Flaherty

The Associated Press

Originally published September 28, 2006, 7:47 PM EDT

WASHINGTON // The Senate today endorsed President Bush's plans to prosecute and interrogate terror suspects, all but sealing congressional approval for legislation that Republicans intend to use on the campaign trail to assert their toughness on terrorism.

The 65-34 vote means the bill could reach the president's desk by week's end. The House passed nearly identical legislation on Wednesday and was expected to approve the Senate bill on Friday, sending it on to the White House.

The bill would create military commissions to prosecute terrorism suspects. It also would prohibit some of the worst abuses of detainees like mutilation and rape, but grant the president leeway to decide which other interrogation techniques are permissible.

A New Game! Where in the World is Osama bin-Laden? I'm not a lawyer, and I don't think I'm "soft" on terrorism (the continuation of the human race would in no way be jeopardized by the permanent removal of Osama bin Laden's DNA from the gene pool--that is, if somebody would actually LOOK for him), but I think the phrases "innocent until proven guilty" and "right to a fair trial" are fairly self-explanatory. Except maybe to Donald Rumsfeld and the cowardly rat-finks in Congress who are too easily bought or arm-twisted.

But back to work (pun intended). There will be no more quarters after the fall quarter. When the current contract ends by Dec. 31, our funding ends. While the bureaucrats tell us that, ostensibly, the funding runs through the end of the next fiscal year (June 30), and they can probably find a temporary place for us back at the main library, and while we MAY get a new contract in the meantime, we are all being "strongly encouraged" to look for new jobs. I may stick it out as long as possible; however, all the colleagues I like best have either left or are leaving soon. A few years ago I "jumped ship" at one job before the proverbial boat sank; now it feels (again) as if the rodents are leaving the deck of the Titanic en masse. My enthusiasm is underwhelming.

My Life as a God. And to the patron who called complaining because he actually had to PAY SHIPPING COSTS in order to return his books, I'm sorry that you don't like our policies, but every other patron has to abide by the same policies. I'm sorry you didn't like my suggestion that you use USPS instead of UPS but use tracking for your own protection--you just kept ranting and barely let me get two words in. I'm sorry you think that the cost of return postage is enough to deter you from borrowing any more books through Interlibrary Loan. I can only wonder what colorful excuses you offered to the student billing office when you received your last tuition bill. I don't write the rules, and I can't control what UPS and the USPS charge for shipping. I'm only a library assistant. And, BTW, you sound just like Elmer Fudd over the phone. Maybe I'll write a nice satirical novel someday, "My Life as a God."

The Early Bird Gets The Boot. When I left for work this morning, once again the bus arrived early. By "early" I mean the bus consistently arrives at my stop at the time it is supposed to be LEAVING the first stop on the route. Then the bus driver SLOWS DOWN along the rest of the route. My bus stop at Roland and Somerset is 2 miles down the road from the origination stop at Roland and Bellemore. Ten+ years of catching the bus has taught me that it usually takes 5-10 minutes for the bus to get to my stop from Roland and Bellemore. Even if there's no one boarding the bus for the first two miles, there 's no freakin' way the bus should arrive at the same time he's leaving, unless the bus itself is a TARDIS. I've seen too many people on this route run for the bus, and there are some regulars I haven't seen lately--I'm sure they missed the bus on more than one occasion. So today I complained yet again to the MTA (Maryland Transit Administration). And, for the first time, they took my name and address and promised to get back to me.

Two weeks ago:

(Me) "According to the schedule you're supposed to be leaving Roland and Bellemore at 11:50, 2 miles down the road. I believe you're too early." (Driver arrived at my stop at 11:50).

(Driver) "Well, the bus before me broke down so they moved all the other buses up." (CYA time.)

Of course, the MTA confirmed that they don't operate that way. And this particular bus driver won't talk to me when I get on the bus, even if I say "good morning" or "thanks." MTA changes drivers the way Captain Kirk changes girlfriends; the bad part is, good bus drivers get replaced by idiots who can't tell time; conversely, if the same trend holds, in a few months Mr. Illiterate will be busy screwing up a different bus route.

And one other suggestion to the MTA. Make the benches at the bus stops a little sturdier. Today a woman plopped down next to me, blithely yakking away on her cell phone. The benches shake when contact is made with derrieres over a certain size.

That pesky "F-word." Our two cats typically beg for canned food when we get up in the morning. Inky especially gets underfoot and meows pitifully. She's a solid cat and, once she plants herself in one place, she doesn't dislodge easily. One look at Inky will convince the most devout skeptic that she's in no danger of starving. If you try to ignore Inky, her meows increase in volume and she favors you with a look that says, "I don't want no more of this boring dry-food shit!" Inky loves canned food; Selene likes canned food, but I think she prefers "people food." When the canned food comes out of the pantry, the volume control on Inky's purr-box cranks into overdrive.

A few days ago, my husband and I were having coffee and Inky was begging vociferously. My husband asked, "Should I give Inky some food?" I said, "Don't say the F-word!"