Another day, another dollar, as the famous line goes.  Another dollar indeed.  Wednesday started out just like Tuesday did, which is just like any other day of my monotanous morning.  The only difference between Wednesday and Tuesday morning was a granola bar instead of a slice of pizza, and waking up feeling like a trainwreck.  Does a night of hockey actually do that to a person?  I feel a sense of jealousy toward the coworkers I have that can party at night and be able to function in the office in the morning.  Nevertheless, I leave for work and fight the ever so gleeful homicidal traffic that is downtown Nashville.  Once again, I'm going to skip the part about work and wish I could be talking about my hypothetical day spent fishing or something similar.  Once I leave work, I still have the trainwreck feeling of this morning.  On top of that I feel sick, but I'm not sick.  When Darling Jak was redoing the floors in his mother's house, he didn't wear a dust mask and thus breathed in insullation material.  I didn't think it was any harm, only the fact that I would be coughing up a raw cat a week later.  I finally get to my apartment, the time of the day I've been looking forward to the most.  The time to where I do nothing but become an abnormal growth attached to the seat of my sofa.  I feel like I deserve a nothing night, even last night I was doing something, albeit entertaining.  A short while later my neighbor Chris stops by and insists that I go bowling with him and his brother and girlfriend.  Oh how I looked forward to the nothing night, but a bribery of free dinner was much more worth it, even if it was a quick stop by the drive-thru at McD's.  After dinner we went ahead and bowled a couple of games.  He didn't know this but bowling used to be a hobby of mine, I felt like I was good at it too.  I'm a little washed up now but I can still beat an everyday joe, and apparently I could beat the fearsome threesome with much ease, especially while armed with my Brunswick, it was 220 if you're curious.  Poor, pitiful, and sick-feeling Jak is back in his apartment now, and after a night of bowling he's ready to go to bed, only to wake up and attend to what has now become known as Jak's monotanous mornings.  Perhaps one day when I have nothing else to write about I will tell you about work, perhaps my dear friend.