did tell him I’d call!" My husband, the diplomat. So, Fred is on a reading kick. He can go for months without reading much, and then go on a spree where he reads a book a day. Over the weekend, he took the spud to a used bookstore and bought a bunch for he and I to read; she bought three or four for herself. Instead of watching Pushing Tin with me last night he sat in the bathtub (we have an oversized whirlpool tub) and read. He didn’t miss much in that movie, I’ll tell you. I really wanted to like it, because I like Billy Bob Thornton and REALLY like John Cusack. But it was excruciatingly pointless and by the end I was yelling "Fucking christ, END ALREADY!" at the TV. The irony is that I rented the movie because I thought Fred wanted to see it. One of our government customers is driving me nuts. She called this morning and placed an order for software. Then she called back and wanted to know what exactly they had paid for. I explained fifteen times that they were paying for software five of their employees had downloaded several months back. "I thought I was buying a license," she said. "Well, yes, a license for the software they’re using," I said. "They downloaded it in December, and now you’re paying for it, so it’s legal for them to keep using it." "But I was paying for a license, not the software, I thought." "You paid for the software; the license is proof that you paid for it." She just didn’t get it, and I couldn’t find the magical words to make her understand. Two more weeeeeks, two more weeeeeks, twoooooo mooooooore weeeeeeks. I can’t be out of here soon enough, folks. —–]]>