Everyone has to show up early at work today for a meeting, wherein the fate of our department will presumably be discussed. Nobody's looking forward to it, myself included, but I've resigned myself to any bad news. Fuck it; it's just a job.

Dr. Long Ghost decided to worm his way under the fridge this morning, thereby terrifying me and forcing me to stuff phone books into the (amazingly tight, even for a ferret) crevice between the floor and the bottom of the fridge and giving me one more thing to worry about. Thanks, Oliver.

Van Cleve, ever the thoughtful gentleman, lent me the third and fourth seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, so once again I am engrossed in that particular world and will have to work it into my schedule so that I don't spend all my time before and after work watching it. I still have stuff to do re: Critical Hits, and Unheimlich needs attending to as well, so I can't afford to let Sarah Michelle Gellar and company consume too much of my free time.

That's about it for now. Y'all take it easy.