I love using products made in other countries. So much more interesting than the same old stuff we're used to here in the States. Once, when I walked into a chemist (pharmacy) in London, and asked whether they had any DayQuil or NyQuil, the helpful shopkeep turned around with a 'Yes, sir' and turned back to me, his hands full of something called 'DayNurse' and 'NightNurse.' Sally and I found this endlessly amusing, but for some odd reason she refuses to use it now that we've brought it back here to America. As if English medicine couldn't effectively combat an American cold.

The whole reason this thought occured to me is because I'm using some Lip Balm I bought over there and took home here with me. In my imagination, I'm anthropomorphizing the the little stick of medicine. I'm imagining that it feels displaced, never having expected to be imported from it's native land. One day soon it will end it's existence in a stinky American landfill, next to strange garbage. Perhaps a Snickers wrapper and an empty box of Zest.

Hell, yes, I'm bored.

I'm at work. Know what I do for a living? I write descriptions of commercials for a company that digitizes them and posts them on the web. But, today, I'm not writing descriptions. Today, I have the thankless task of sifting through all the old descriptions I've written, and making sure that certain 'keywords' are properly inserted. In other words, if the phrase 'bite and smile' (yes, I'm serious) or 'breakfast' isn't mentioned in a Kellogg's commercial, then, by gum, it's my job to make sure that it is.

Come on, five o'clock...