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Tuesday, 04/10/2007 - 11:07 p.m.

Dear assorted deities that I pray to,

When I die and stand at the gates of whatever, I truly in my heart of hearts want to be able to say that I tried my absolute best to be the best person I could be. I am so far, though, kind of losing the battle. I had to do a case with Satan's Minion on Earth tonight and the entire time I kept wishing he'd have a heart attack (albeit a painless one) and die. He's a thousand years old anyway and loooooong past retirement age, but the thing with doctors is they can't be forced to retire. They can practice for as long as they are able, hence my wishing he'd just outright die. I'll also have to deal with Dr. Evil since he will be there tomorrow and he's slower than smoke off shit, so he'll be there all friggin' day. I've already planned to volunteer for another case so I'm not sent in his room to relieve a 3 o'clocker.

And I've rambled way off track. My whole point was...dole a little patience and empathy to the Fat Girl. Please. I don't need a whole lot because usually I have a whole reserve of my own, so I only need a little extra boost. Many thanks.

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