Waiting Room

I just got back home after spending three hours at the local Ford dealership. It seems some kind of safety feature was overlooked in the manufacture of my truck, so I received a recall notification in the mail on Monday. Not a big deal, really.
Waiting areas are interesting places. Usually people have been sitting there a while and are growing impatient. During my three-hour tenure, I saw watched several different people, most of them elderly, fidget and complain and stare at the ceiling. I got lots of reading done. Also, on the television, there was a really bad reality show about a group of women who, I'm guessing, spent some time at a camp together. It was full of phrases like, "...learned to love myself," and "...became one with my sisters." It was so absurd I wanted to make sick right there in front of everyone.
Last night, my friend Ryan and I went to see Mission Impossible: 3. It was a typical action movie with situation after perilous situation. I was on the edge of my seat during the movie, but now, I probably couldn't even tell you what really happened. The best story of the night was the six or eight people camped outside the movie theatre (in actual tents) in anticipation of X-Men 3, which doesn't open until Friday. I have nothing against these people, but I could never do it, mostly because I wouldn't want to be ridiculed by passers-by calling me a pathetic loser. More power to 'em, I guess.
My goal today is to do some very thorough and much-needed cleaning around our pad. When Ryan gets home from work this afternoon, his nose will burn from the smell of clean.