The Sky is Falling (on me) At work today (countdown at T-4 workdays left. What does the "T minus" mean anyway? All I know is that's what you say before a countdown. Oh well it's not important. Meanwhile, back at the ranch...) a piece of the ceiling fell not too far from my terminal. No one got hurt, which is good, cuz the lucky bastard woulda made more money off it then I've ever made, and he may not have even worked there. If was a piece of foam too I think, so it wouldn't have done much damage. That wouldv'e been kinda like getting hit really hard by someone waving a big "We're #1" finger. To think that the guy who invented the "We're #1" finger is probably living on some island in the Caribbean somewhere, and all he did was take some crap lying around in his garage, put it on his hand, and went to a ballgame. So incredibly simple. Must've felt like an idiot though that first night. Sitting there, people pointing and laughing at the guy. And you gotta figure the finger would have looked pretty raw, being the first of its kind. Might've not even had the individual fingers painted on. Damn, what the hell am I talking about? So back to the Chicken Little experience. If that thing had somehow killed me, it would have been one of those "...with only one week til retirement" type things. Spooky.