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so spoke misery
Jun. 16th, 2006 10:40 amRealization the tenth: Much as I love her, someone wouldn't know how to properly manage money or pay bills if someone slapped her upside and gave her the ability to do so. Even when they take the chunk right back out of the paycheck they give you, things go wrong. ...
I wonder how long I've been without phone service? I didn't know I was until this morning. Which is, you know, rather uncool. It also goes to show you how little I actually use it.
I've got a giant chunk of Endlessly, She Said stuck in my head. It's not a bad song to have running in an endless loop, all things considered. Still, I'm not all that fond of songs being stuck in my head, especially when the discman is downstairs and I'm too lazy to go down and get it.
Yesterday my Ruby Gloom shirt arrived. :D Wore it to work, and the night was good. And by good I mean we did very little but it was okay, and my knee & ankle weren't killing me by the end of the night. See, I have this nasty habit of switching my weight from one leg to the other when extremely bored, and that'll cause the joints tosnap, crackle, pop. Which means that after eight hours, I'm whining.
Updated amazon list, always fun. Realized just this second I still have at least three other things to take off. I'd say why do I bother with said list, but I know full well. I like to see all the junk I've thought of buying or wishing for madly.
...Oh god, I accidentally ended up in the spoilery section of a LKH community [of sorts] and Christonacracker, if this crap is true, someone should shoot the woman. Hack off her hands, bind her feet and remove all other ways of letting her write. I imagine this would involve gagging as well. ...It's just... I lack the words to express how horrible it sounds. Usually I don't mind the general outline, even in spoiler-ific form, it's the details I know will damn the book to hell. But this go round? I think reading it might kill me. It might cause my head to explode. One minute you hear me snicker and then bam! Brains and stuff all over the walls.
Oddly enough, I still want to read it. But not half as much as Undead and Unpopular. Mmmmm. I could dream about it.
Instead I'm off to try on the pants of doom, flit around and do precious little before I pass out, work, and then come home for the weekend. Yes, my lovelies, I do not have to work tomorrow night. The great kick in the arse is that the whole reason the schedule is mucked up? Cuz our loverly scheduling manager can never manage to get requested days off done correctly. It seems Tr asked for Monday off. Cool, fine. It seems he gave her three days off, including Monday. She doesn't want all of them off. I'm thinking, "Dude! I don't want to work six days in a row!" But paycut? Meh.
Where were we? Oh yes, crushing agony.
Agony, time to go make the wishlist that someone asked for, but let's be honest, they won't use. Why do I bother? I'll end up with another pile of peach candles which I can't burn or open or use or touch because [random fact of the week]: I loathe peach. It's an okay color but otherwise, my skin crawls and I gag. I know this isn't one of those things I've outgrown because I keep getting slipped something peach-tastic every year. And it always ends the same. Vomit or being awfully close.
Aren't you glad you never asked?
I wonder how long I've been without phone service? I didn't know I was until this morning. Which is, you know, rather uncool. It also goes to show you how little I actually use it.
I've got a giant chunk of Endlessly, She Said stuck in my head. It's not a bad song to have running in an endless loop, all things considered. Still, I'm not all that fond of songs being stuck in my head, especially when the discman is downstairs and I'm too lazy to go down and get it.
Yesterday my Ruby Gloom shirt arrived. :D Wore it to work, and the night was good. And by good I mean we did very little but it was okay, and my knee & ankle weren't killing me by the end of the night. See, I have this nasty habit of switching my weight from one leg to the other when extremely bored, and that'll cause the joints to
Updated amazon list, always fun. Realized just this second I still have at least three other things to take off. I'd say why do I bother with said list, but I know full well. I like to see all the junk I've thought of buying or wishing for madly.
...Oh god, I accidentally ended up in the spoilery section of a LKH community [of sorts] and Christonacracker, if this crap is true, someone should shoot the woman. Hack off her hands, bind her feet and remove all other ways of letting her write. I imagine this would involve gagging as well. ...It's just... I lack the words to express how horrible it sounds. Usually I don't mind the general outline, even in spoiler-ific form, it's the details I know will damn the book to hell. But this go round? I think reading it might kill me. It might cause my head to explode. One minute you hear me snicker and then bam! Brains and stuff all over the walls.
Oddly enough, I still want to read it. But not half as much as Undead and Unpopular. Mmmmm. I could dream about it.
Instead I'm off to try on the pants of doom, flit around and do precious little before I pass out, work, and then come home for the weekend. Yes, my lovelies, I do not have to work tomorrow night. The great kick in the arse is that the whole reason the schedule is mucked up? Cuz our loverly scheduling manager can never manage to get requested days off done correctly. It seems Tr asked for Monday off. Cool, fine. It seems he gave her three days off, including Monday. She doesn't want all of them off. I'm thinking, "Dude! I don't want to work six days in a row!" But paycut? Meh.
Where were we? Oh yes, crushing agony.
Agony, time to go make the wishlist that someone asked for, but let's be honest, they won't use. Why do I bother? I'll end up with another pile of peach candles which I can't burn or open or use or touch because [random fact of the week]: I loathe peach. It's an okay color but otherwise, my skin crawls and I gag. I know this isn't one of those things I've outgrown because I keep getting slipped something peach-tastic every year. And it always ends the same. Vomit or being awfully close.
Aren't you glad you never asked?
