Mrs. Bumper took me out clothes shopping today. It was a pretty traumatic experience for me. I guess I’m just an institutional man, I’ve grown accustom to someone telling me what to wear every day. I decided on something and just wanted three of them, but that wasn’t going to satistfy the tailor. We ended up compromising and I got some things that are almost exactly the same, but in different weights. I really can’t see myself “mixing it up a bit” with a salmon shirt and Warhol-esque tie, so I just got black over white. I figure if it looks good on Monday, one just like it will look good on Tuesday.
This must be a manefestation of my sickness.

I usually don’t pay too much attention to what I’m wearing except: I cannot stand to be monochromatic. If I’m wearing black shorts I’ll wear a green t-shirt, if I’m wearing green shorts I’ll wear a black t-shirt. Other than that I don’t much care. Oh, I also don’t like t-shirts that came from the store. T-shirts should be commemorative. That’s my fashion advice.

The boys from my shift took me out for a nice dinner after work last night. I’ve become pretty enamored with them in the eleven or twelve days I’ve spent with them. I’m sure my record of showing up for work has made me less popular, but what can I do?

You’re all invited, as my personal guests, to my promotion ceremony. Friday, PromiseLand Holy-Roller Church, 1000hrs. I’ll understand if you can’t make it, but I wanted you to know you’re invited. I don’t know if there’s free food or not.