Fortunes Lost In Speculation.

Reading myself Lytton Strachey's Elizabeth & Essex: A Tragic Something or Other. Just into it I started to wonder if it was going to be a collosal waste of time, but realized there isn't anything necessarily wrong with that. The point is actually to avoid eye contact with anyone on Metro. Enriching myself through literature was never a genuine consideration.

The wagerings in the office are about to go nuclear. Some insolent wretch picked Derek for next weeks line-up and we had a specific rule about "not picking anyone's crushes" which I thought was rich since all the other wagerers were "straight" so now it's on and as soon as ass tool comes back from St. Lucia or wherever the fuck he's going to be finding me jumping all over Ryan Braun. The Hebrew Hammer.