Friday Morning, 9:00 AM, The Steak and Egg

Fritz

The Steak and Egg is a scuzzy little dive on Wisconsin Avenue, next to a little used bookstore. When I say little, I mean it. It's one of those places that looks like someone shrunk a house. There's enough room for a counter with six stools. No booths or anything.

As for the food, well, the menu says it all. Grease and lots of it. How's that for a morning ritual?

Now, if I didn't have to work, I'd never have to deal with this "morning" bullshit at all. A twenty four hour day does not even begin to approximate the way my internal clock works.

I have to bring home the bacon somehow (ha ha). Hacking is not a cheap hobby. My new 286 set me back more than I want to say.

But seriously, I'm still pretty hyped up about last night. I barely slept. I just hope they didn't tighten their security and boot me off next time. The can't know I was in, though, unless someone was watching really closely. I changed all of the log files and everything.

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