A man named Jonathan Metz (not my name exactly, but close), also 31 years old, also a bachelor, also a Connecticut resident, endured a tragic ordeal when he was trapped in a furnace and had to cut off his own arm. This John Metz is fine, however. His only ordeal today was having to relocate his car to avoid the street sweeper, then doing a terrible job parallel-parking.
Last night I met up with a friend of a friend whose only instruction was to come to Boxers. Feeling invincibly connected due to my iPhone I searched for a Boxers and trekked down to the West Village in the pouring rain, only to arrive at the address and find nothing called Boxers. When I inquired at a placed called Oliver's, I was told that Oliver's used to be Boxers. But then at the bar when I did another Google Map search for Boxers I discovered there was another one that turned out to be a $6 cab ride away. I could've walked, but there was that pouring rain thing.
The correct Boxers was a gay sports bar. What's next, a straight Oscar party? Nice place though. Tonight I went to Houndstooth Pub with co-workers where I had a delightfully salty shepherd's pie and a couple brewskies.
Work is still going well, I think. I've been working pretty independently on a report, sometimes confident in my insights and sometimes not sure if I've actually said anything. My supervisor today seemed to like what I've been doing. It's not that I'm not confident in my abilities, it's just that in a new environment, I'm not exactly sure of what the expectations are regarding deliverables. I guess all I can do is do my best and assume I'll be told if something is wrong.
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