Is there something wrong with me? My co-workers drag themselves into work when they have 104-degree temperatures and can't form coherent sentences, all because they worry the place is going to fall apart without them. I, on the other hand, know that the company will survive without my two hours of busy work, one-and-a-half hour lunch period, and approximately five hours of downloading music on Limewire.

I think I need to find a new job.

I went to Draeger's to eat breakfast and pick up some groceries this morning and fell in love with the idea of doing this every day -- making my own schedule and so forth. Being a freelancer. I know it would make me crazy, and that I would be a madwoman trying to make ends meet. Especially now, when there's little to no work in this market. But then again, I haven't been trying that hard.

Actually, if A. and I were to get married, I wouldn't have to worry about benefits, which is not a reason to get married, but is something.

We have been talking about the E and the M things quite a bit lately. Our good friends got engaged last week -- it's about the fifth engagement in the past six months among our close friends. Then we flew off to Louisville for my good friend S.'s wedding this past weekend, so we've had wedding on the brain.

And we finally discussed it, though neither of us is eager to spoil the mystery. I just wanted to make sure we were both on the same page. He assured me he knows the "when and the where," but beyond that would like to keep it a secret. And I agreed. So the time must be soon approaching if he's already decided when it is.

I keep remembering myself as that 20-year-old who thought I was so ugly and socially inept that no man would ever have me. Now I've found my best friend, a person who knows me better than perhaps anybody, somebody I can be myself with no matter what, and we're completely devoted to each other. And we love the same music, movies, TV, and jokes about poo. There really must be a God.