With the hours, that is. Two tests to take.
And a job to find. Whatever shall I do? Wherever shall I go?
Going Postal? Or just trying not to?
hours adding up to 3000 in just another week or so.
burnt out to the point of wanting to quit and work at Disneyland instead.
back soon.
I even have a real fic idea – perhaps I shall being writing fanfic again, perhaps I will be working up an actual novel. Hope springs eternal.
almost done with internship!
Almost burnt out….
Going on multiple backpacking trips throughout the year.
Single again.
Tired.
More verbose posts to follow at undetermined future date.
zzzzz.
Walk out your door expecting a total bummer Monday, and discover policemen are just outside investigating the death of your next door neighbor.
I didn’t know the guy at all – he stayed mostly inside reading his newspaper. He was quite old and infirm; he’d evidently lost his vocal cords and was still smoking anyway.
He was sort of collapsed on the couch. I could see him through the open front door, and waves of cigarette smell wafted out – the whole apartment probably reeks.
It was an okay day. I talked to people a little, worked, and had a slight run in with someone – but you know, as much as life can be the pits what with the economy and all… the alternative is even less appealing.
I had this immediate urge to put all my affairs in order. I suppose that’s natural enough when confronted with this sort of thing. I imagine I will get my affairs in order at some point this year, as I’ve been meaning to do anyway.
Evidently the spambots think this is an abandoned blog – I’ve gotten about 11,293,495 comment spam in the past week. Thank you, spam trapping add on.
I’m very close to moving again. My lease is up in about… I don’t want to think about it, but a month in a half. I know not what the complex will do about raising the rent and so forth, and Some Guy is still all for the cohabitation idea to save a little money and increase the likelihood that he will see me more than once a week. Since he’s not likely to be able to fit his things into the 2″ of space in the corner of my closet, and his current rental is in an area where mariachi music keeps him awake all night, there’s a moving truck to rent. (I have nothing against mariachi music, or any other kind, until 2 am when as far as I’m concerned you need to turn that s#%^ OFF already! Especially when you can hear it three blocks away!)
I’ve reconciled myself to my job situation. It’s still a work environment ranking somewhere between fingernails down a chalkboard and piercing ultrasensitive body parts with rusty nails – however, I’m employed and almost done with the internship, and it’s the only place in town actually growing instead of laying people off.
The rest of my life remains in limbo. The more people I meet, the more I see that this is the way we are forced to live. So many ideas and dreams, so little time. We love stories of people who go write mega-novels and become wealthy, or climb that mountain against all odds, because we are caught up in this moment to moment drama of the little shit. Will I get my flat fixed before I need the car to go buy more hot cheetos? Will my kids stop throwing pencils and do their classwork? Will I find that #%%#$~! box of light bulbs so I can finally pluck my eyebrows in full lighting?
I wonder if the do-ers are just really frustrated-past-endurance normal folks who can let the dishes pile up while they climb Kilimanjaro. I’ll go ponder that while I do the dishes.