A dang-skippy stellar day

I sold lots of stuff -- more than twice what I'd sold yesterday. Rawk.

So, what are my odds of getting my health insurance provider to cover more than half of my emergency room trip? I may spend part of Thursday morning calling and begging. An hour on hold could save me a couple hundred. "Whatever you want. Just pick me a primary anywhere near Davis Square."

To date, I feel meatty and beefy.

I really have nothing intelligent to say at the moment. I worked out, I did stuff, blah blah. I've been reading "The CEO of the Sofa" by P.J. O'Rourke off and on. I like his stuff, but I get the sense he throws around the blame out of someone else's habit.

-no brain waves at all, Dante

update: The banner in my copy of Opera ran out of ads today. How relaxing...