Six day work weeks are guaranteed to bring out extra punchiness. This one has left me wishing for a "Sort-of easy button."

Notes from the week that shouldn't have been.

Had a misunderstanding with a friend at a work event that we repaired, but got the week off to a fine start.

I got a lot of giveaways for our current Halloween promotion, but the dairy laden snack really needs to rethink their name, sounds like something somebody ate already.

I'm never going to appreciate a cup of yogurt.

Amiably ended a relationship for good that has left me once again dateless for (e:Ladycroft) 's wedding (she'll probably kill me at this point, too). The woman involved ominously posted something, then appeared in instant messenger, where I asked her to "Come out with it." So, in a new personal low (or best), I was broken up with via Yahoo Instant Messenger.

Like Kip Dynamite, I love technology.

You gotta laugh, it's too loopy not to.

In the silver lining department, part of the Holiday promotion has resulted in an excess of donut holes in the office. I partook a little on Monday, but there are still some here. That's bad for all the logical reasons donuts are bad, but office morale is pretty genial.

A spoonful of sugar and all that.

There is another marathon on Sunday. Don't particularly care but there are other streets beside Elmwood and Delaware in the city. I wouldn't even bitch about that, but the last time these freaks had to pound the pavement, one volunteer made me turn off Elmwood and head up Delevan. When I got to Lincoln Parkway, the volunteer said I needed to go back and proceed on Elmwood. Either these folks were the dumbest people alive or evil geniuses.

Mr-Mike needs beer.

I was taking down some banners from a recent promotion outside the tiger yard. Two adults were sheparding a group of obnoxious four and five year olds (they were!). The kids were hollering stuff like "Hey Mr. Tiger! along with a combination of bathroom euphemisms. Real Alqonquin round table stuff.

The Tiger was staring at them and occasionally looking my way to see what I was doing. After I finished removing my second banner, I swear she was looking at me as if to say "Can you shut those ankle biters up????"

Picking up our story from the Meltdown post, I tell my lovely children that we'll do dinner together once I get out of my Thursday meeting, which of course is running long.

My phone rings with my eldest saying her friend who actually went in for surgery on Friday, wanted to catch a movie that night for being laid up. Since the two of them had the good taste to pick the Ricky Gervais movie, I relented. Right at the same time, the 15 year old accepted an invite from a selfish friend and a ride without checking with me, or her mom out of town, or well anybody. This would have left the mighty number one son to fend for himself. I was not cool with that. Apparently, I can be pretty scary, as I told her she doesn't leave until I get there. "But so and so are already on their way" In my best Will Arnett/Alec Baldwin voice, I replied I didn't care.

Having read the riot act in that voice, I sent her on her way with the warning that if we have this discussion like this again, it will end in her not going anywhere.

Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit smoking.

Having reasserted my Dad-itude, I was almost ready for Friday. I hadn't written about it for fear of jinxing something, but I struck up two friendships in late July early August with two women around my age. One is a platonic sort of thing, we get together once in awhile and enjoy having a modicum of a social life -- but she was clear about a nonromantic thing and that was fine. The other resulted in a fix up from an old college acquaintance and I guess my radar must be off for such matters. That seemed to be scooting along in precisely the right direction. We had a good time, seeing a couple of shows, had similar outlooks, enjoyed some of the same stuff, I even charmed her daughters. I'm thinking, yee ha, finally, been awhile and all that. Might even have a date for the (e:Ladycroft) nuptials. Room for perhaps a little optimism. But, no.

Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue.

I get this note yesterday. The ex and I went to dinner, had drinks.....blah, blah, blah madeuphangovercakes. For crying outloud, I know shit happens and it ain't the end of the world, but just like the moment your hair starts to grey you should be zit proof, there should be an age moratorium for games playing. There ought to be some cosmic ordinance that mandates a distinct cutoff in crapola in relationships. You'd think people who've been through kids, failed marriages, etc would be immune or at the very least a little sick of the nonsense.

Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit drinking woodgrain alcohol.

As the song goes, alone again naturally.

And then, that football game today?? what the hell was that? If you are on twitter, follow Daryltalley and pthomas, funniest parts of an abysmal piece of tv.

Got to get some hockey tickets soon.

where I sound like a real, genuine,...tool