Around and Around we go.

     Britney's been acting weird lately.  She bought herself a bicycle with one of those baby seats attached to the back.  She says she needs the exercise and wants to get out of the house more.  I've also caught her spending an awful lot of time messing with her hair in the mirror and humming to herself.

     This isn't bad, exactly.  I'm glad she's out of the funk she was in a few weeks ago.  There's just something odd about it is all.  She says she's just finally feeling settled in.

     The job's about the same as always.  Things are slow.  I do speed traps sometimes.  Even those are pretty uneventful.  All I get is the occasional hyperactive teenager or spaced out trucker pulling a 20 hour shift.  Britney keeps hinting about me getting a promotion.  She doesn't seem to get how these places work.  First of all, I've been in town less than a year.  Everyone else was pretty much bred and born right in this town.  I get the feeling that everyone in positions higher than me is there for life.  There's already a detective. Sure, he's 75 years old, but he's a healthy guy.  Hell, I think he could bench more than me.  He smokes a lot, but it just doesn't seem to affect him.

     People don't leave here, and they don't change.  Ameslayne's a stagnant pool.  It just sits.