Sometimes I wonder if I wouldn't be happier doing data entry. I mean all the time, and not just when I can't avoid it. Or maybe I should try to hire on at a factory as an assembly line production worker. I don't hold any illusions that that's an easy job, but when I'm doing something repetitive I'm not thinking about the petty annoyances that interrupt the flow of my day. The less I have to think, the milder the headache.

Unlike yesterday, the most blissful Monday in memory, today was a buggy ride from top to bottom. The Company bought a new truck, and I spent most of today trying to give the insurance company information that I didn't have, so that someone could pick the vehicle up from the dealer. It's a good thing our agency runs an even looser ship than we do, because we managed to get the truck covered without my having seen a single page of the paperwork. I don't know how much we're spending, how it's being financed, or whose name is on the title. I know it's white (the truck, that is, although the paperwork is probably white, too).

The day was spattered with the usual garbled messages and hopelessly wrong numbers, and the neighbor kid was home alone for a couple of hours (Boom! Boom! Boom!), so I was just a bit on edge. Then I hit on a plan: work! I'm talking about the mindless work of entering checks into the register and generating reports. It's something I can do in my sleep (which is a darn good thing). Suddenly, and for the entire time it took me to get it done, I was transported to a place where all that exists is the keyboard.

You also have to have some music on that makes you bob your head and roll your shoulders in chair-dancing fashion. For me today it was the Pretenders.

It was effective therapy, although it still took an Advil and a Tylenol to get rid of the headache.

I was offered a one-night paying gig as a catering waiter later this week, but I turned it down. I don't usually take a pass on easy money and a fun time, even if it means hard work. I like physical labor, as long as I know what I'm doing (which eliminates anything requiring tools of any kind). The best part of working in the shoe store, for me, was stocking shelves. But I'm thinking that if I do have any free time this week, I need to decompress, rather than hurling myself into that kind of frenzied environment. I'd be better off sitting in the dark, either at home or in a movie theater. As noisy as it's been here lately, it might be quieter at a screening of X-Men.

Suzanne and I had dinner tonight and then took in the Summer Repertory Theatre's performance of Victor/Victoria at SRJC. This is one play where casting is critical, and all of the principal roles were portrayed with sharp comic timing and a warmth not always seen in a show that is part musical comedy and part farce. SRT's set design amazes me every time I'm there, and the scene changes were little comic set-pieces in their own right. Everything about the production, from choreography to costume design, was handled skillfully by the student cast and crew.

It was a thoroughly professional presentation, and I can tell you that the audience, including ourselves, laughed and applauded throughout. Besides, I'm always a sucker for a story about people finding love, "forbidden" or otherwise. When characters end up getting what they deserve, I'm satisfied.