It's been a big day.

Lots of stuff happened. Well, not really, but considering it's me, lots of stuff happened.

I went into work at noon, as per usual. The owner of the gallery, Marianne, wanted to talk to me about working more hours. As we talked, Sue mentioned some doodles I had done while working on Saturday. She said something to the effect of "You've really got some talent there. You should try to develop it". So, I replied, "Yeah, well, you know I went to an art school, right?" Marianne was blown away. Her resident artist just left the store, so I think she was in the market for a new one. Everyone in the gallery seemed interested, so I'm going to bring in my art to show them. I'd been wanting to mention that I was an illustrator for a long time, but it never seemed right. I'm really hoping this opens some doors for illustration in Peoria. This gallery has been open for close to 40 years, and Marianne has basically made a lot of local artists. Maybe I can be next. We'll see.

So, I cut my finger pretty bad at work. It wouldn't stop bleeding. I bled through several band aids and some artist's tape, since we didn't have real tape to use. Then, just about 10 minutes ago, I was working on my Nintendo computer and cut my thumb even worse than I cut my finger. Fun stuff.

I just found out yesterday that someone I went to high school with died over Labor Day weekend. Carlos Sarrif. I never really hung out with him, and I could probably count the number of conversations we had on one hand. He was riding a jet ski that ran into a boat. He got sucked into the propellors and died. It's a pretty terrible way to go. As far as I know, he is the first person to die from my high school class. Jill Zarr died a few years ago, in the summer after her senior year, but she was a class below me. It's odd to see people like that die. I mean, they were my age or younger. The things that killed them were simple mistakes that could happen to anyone. The next time I get in my car and drive the 2 miles to work, I could die. The next time I go jogging, a drunk guy could swerve off the road and run me over. Next time I go grocery shopping at midnight, a robber could shoot me in the head.

Worrying about that sort of thing too much will make anyone miserable, so I'm definitely not going to. It's just strange to think about sometimes. I'm still alive, and I don't think I'm any more careful than Jill was. I've got jet skiing in the Illinois River just like Carlos, but I didn't die. So what's the difference? Luck? Coincidence?

But in an effort to end this post on a non-depressing note, my relisted auction (due to the dead beat bidder) finished higher than the previous one. So I came out okay.

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