Dear diary,

I’m in private mode again. And I’m pooping after traveling one hour and a half from a TEMP GIG from hell! Traffic was stuck in some parts but I’m able to travel thirty miles per hour on average both ways.

There were seven of us, two leads, and three from facilities. We were reading the comments, labeling and rating. It’s easy but we have to categorize each comment which may contain more than one relevant topic or not applicable.

So for three more days, I’m planning to do that. Respondent immediately came out in her pajama to check the mailbox upon my departure on or about seven o’clock in the morning. She won’t stop and your prayers won’t work, period,

With that said, I’m not following anymore blogs and I’ll try to ween myself from the internet altogether like Chris who came from Jamaica. He said I looked 25 years old and I replied that I’m younger.

I made him laugh. But that’s because I don’t care because I’m not interested in messing up my stash. I keep lowering my head to show some gray, silver, and whitish hair to prove that I’m older.

It’s 18:14 pm and my pooping is finished. Dad hasn’t cooked dinner because he’s a jerk and never did when Mom came home late from work.


Flynn B full of flattened crap which was probably compressed from sitting down long hours.

20181024-1903. Addendum. Dad was kind enough to boiled frozen veggies and open a plain can of tuna fish – flavorless.

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