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Canadian Psycho?
 I was up until 3 a.m. last night, reading American Psycho, good book, although my mother tells me apparently it's the novel that inspired convicted rapist/murderer Paul Bernardo's killing spree. The scary thing about this book is that I can identify with the some of the main character's thoughts, like murdering people when he's out to dinner with them, because they are annoying or boorish. I guess the difference between Patrick Bateman and so-called normal people is that sure, we think about things like that but we would never actually go through with them!
Anyway, I'm up until 3, probably didn't get to sleep until 3:30 and at 8 this morning my room mate comes into my room, says she's slept in and can I drive her to work? I can barely open my eyes, but I drag my lazy, unemployed ass out of bed anyway and drive her in. After I dropped her off, I thought about how nice it was that I didn't have to drive into my old office this morning. I hated working for that balding, fat, short, little Mussolini. In fact, I used to have fantasies about an ex-employee walking into that office with a high-powered shotgun and blowing him away. I'm now an ex-employee. Would it be worth 25 years in jail? Nah. I'm just be grateful for the fact that I never have to see the fucker's fat ugly face again.
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