I worked at Reader (Readers? Reader’s? Readers’? – I’ll check the actual title when I’m down there today) Services yesterday, and the stories are true: you get to say “that’s on the fourth floor” a lot. This is the desk on the main floor by the fiction section at Millennium. But a kid came in with his mom doing research on Dungeons and Dragons and I did some searching for him and when the D&D for Dummies book was checked out I gave him Imagine’s address, since they know stuff and would be able to help without being too “buy buy buy.”

I saw a couple of our patrons while down there and felt a little disillusioned that they have their own repartee with the staff of other departments. The schizophrenic woman was down there complaining about how slow the second floor is to find stuff for her, and adamant man who must be autistic from before they knew what autism was spent twenty minutes arguing with the people down at the Memberships desk. It was like being a kid and seeing your teacher at the grocery store.

On Friday I saw Star Trek and liked it. In the top three Trek movies. There were holes (see this review) and yeah it wasn’t particularly deep, but it was fun. Kind of like Iron Man was last year. The thing I was happiest with was Karl Urban’s portrayal of McCoy. I was worried McCoy, easily my favourite Original Series character, would get short shrift and he didn’t.

I have no idea how that fleshy prolapsed rectum monster could possibly survive on an icy moon though.

This morning I woke up to emails from people in the condo corporation. Evidently the jerk has FedExed me information so we can get the place insured. And one of the owners didn’t know that and complained about how he should actually be doing his job as the condo board “stand up and be a man” was the sentiment. He replied with a comment about her daughter (another owner) and how she should have dealt with it. Man oh man I want to sell this place. I don’t want to deal with this situation which I could see escalating into negligence and suing and yech. The douchebag is clearly in the wrong but I have no desire to fight him. I just want to flee.