Seven deadly sins. Seven ways to die. September 13, 2002 - 1:50 a.m.

Work wasn't completely awful tonight. We spent most of the night placing a 'book' (the size of a 5 subject notebook) into a medium sized UPS box. Then stuffing the box with 6 feet of paper... about 4 feet wide. I felt like I was wasting paper. It was that really good newsprint paper or whatever they call it. The kind used in art classes for sketching and stuff. I wanted to take a huge roll of it home and save it from being wasted in shipping procedures.

So I decided to play human paper dolls in between stuffing boxes. Just so you know, paper flared skirts simply don't work. You need to go for the straight line look. And I would make sure to wear something underneath the paper outfit, otherwise it will rip when you bend over to get the toilet paper at the grocery store, then everyone will see your stuff. I was going to get more in depth with the outfits. Put designs on them, catchy words, irritating logos. But Eagle-Eyes came in. No fun when she's there.

Today I hurt. Having to deal with that tape machine for 4 days, nearly 8 hours straight, is not a good thing. I think it's ripped my fingerprints off. I feel like John Doe from Se7en. Although, I didn't purposefully slice my fingertips.

The benefit: I can now become either a cat burglar or kill someone (then steal their stuff) until the skin grows back, and not leave fingerprints.

The drawback: Oh my god!! It hurts like a motherfucker!! I can't type without pain! They actually burn with contact to oxygen. I can feel each tiny scratch. On one fingertip alone, there is easily over a hundred slivers. I can't begin to describe exactly what it feels like. It's certainly strange. Did I mention painful yet?

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