people who turn up believing they're Klingons and can't speak English (or any other terrestrial language).

Someone in my university does research on people who consider Klingon to be their "home" language. All of them, however, speak English or German as a way of dealing with outsiders. This particular group has no more mental health problems than average, and they don't think that they really are Klingons, just that they have adopted a Klingon lifestyle. A lifestyle that outsiders may consider to be eccentric, just like being a Goth or a Republican.

Really?

Seriously. My knife defenses are reasonably good, but still. Real knives. They say no one gets injured, but they could perpetrating a huge coverup.

I apparently had peanuts and juice for lunch. At least, I've had enough of both that I shouldn't have anything else.

I'm sure that some time between now and then I'll stop obsessing over the whole "stabbing me with a real knife???" thing.

The plan is to NOT have someone stab you with a real knife, right?

I pity the poor Goth Republican Klingons....

The plan is to NOT have someone stab you with a real knife, right?

They stab. I avoid getting stabbed.

Theoretically.

Mo Better Blues is on tv, and the dubbing right now is hilarious. I do love Denzel.

Also, I still hate my paper. BUT! I am way ahead of many of my friends, so that's good. Maybe I can win Best Paper yet. (My theory being, I know I can write a good paper if I actually give myself time to edit it. Therefore, I want to have as much done for the Monday first-draft deadline as possible.)

They stab. I avoid getting stabbed.

Right, right. I guess the person with the knife is stabbing regardless of what/if they connect with, huh.

So my goal today has been to relax and do some work, but not go crazy. I ate lunch in the lunchroom, not at my desk. I have taken care of some personal stuff. I chatted with some co-workers in their area of the office.

All in all, a good way to go on Fridays. Now, if I can get my desk a wee bit more cleaned off, and then the rest of this organized in some manner, I will be pleased and full prepared to call it a day at 5pm.

Coworker came in. I don't even know his name. Asked me about the status of some thing that was going on a week or two ago, and back then I'd already established that I am the last one to know anything. I have a mess in my inbox, a mess on my desk, and so I just looked at him and said, "Not a clue, man."

God, that's refreshing.

I pity the poor Goth Republican Klingons....

I don't. The ones I know are jerks.