Today, I talked to my client about what I've done so far, and he is thrilled. Already talking about pushing for more money in the budget for next fiscal year so I can work work work my little typing fingers to the bone. The reason I don't have much time to blog today is that I anticipate being quite busy tomorrow, and I need to do lame shit like vacuum today before Viva comes home (she screams when the vacuum cleaner is on, perhaps from some sort of visceral recognition of the suckiness of it, but who can say).
But first, let me just add this, as a follow-up to my post yesterday about the kee-razy post office experience I had:
Added proof, if you needed any, that the United States Postal Services has some strange magnetic attraction for the nutjobs. (Or the nutobs, if you prefer.)
Gregory Ignatius Armstrong, 42, was indicted for bankruptcy fraud in Greenbelt, Md., in December for claiming in all seriousness that he is a sovereign nation with unlimited contract powers and is thus owed $500,000 in copyright royalties by anyone who uses his name (in one case, by his Postal Service supervisor who wrote him concerning absences from work).
I found the story in News of the Weird, but you can read the original article here in the Washington Post. And I have to say, I'm glad I looked up the source, because then I would have missed another, even more eye-popping dimension to the story:
"It was sort of nightmarish," said Odell Johnson, Armstrong's supervisor at a U.S. Postal Service center in Capitol Heights. "They were threatening to foreclose my home."You know, one of our family members used to work at the post office. She's one of the ones we don't speak to anymore. Coincidence? I'm beginning to think not.