Well...
Per the request of a dear friend, I shall update this journal thing:
My life has basically become a black hole of groggy minutes between work, naptime, work, and sleep - or at least I feel that way most of the time. On the whole, I'm actually enjoying myself these days, in spite of my intense schedule and numerous deviant tribulations (read: malfunction, dysfunction, failure, breakdown).
I'm working two jobs right now. Still good ol' Starbucks - mostly to keep my self-esteem low. It's reached a point where every moment I spend in Starbucks is another moment I hate my life, just a little more. I usually get through my time there by thinking about happier days. Days in college and in London. When that doesn't work, I intentionally fuck up drinks for people I don't like while bitching about how stupid most people are, all the while aware that I'm one of those whiney college-graduate baristas who thinks himself morally and intellectually superior to most of his honest to god peers - and being aware that I have become this tortured stereotype just fans the flames of self-aggrandization and self-loathing.
On a positive note, I've also started working for a company called Apogee Telecommunications. It's actually a pretty nice place to work. I spend the bulk of my time answering the phone, instructing vacuous neurotic sorority girls in the complex and dark art of finding their control panel. However, I shant complain, as I am paid $12 to sit in a comfy chair, talk on the phone, and play on the internet for 12 hours at a stretch. A 12-hour shift at Apogee is a cake-walk compared to five minutes at Starbucks. AND I like what I do there. Granted, it's not the most intellectually stimulating job in the world, and technically it's not permanent, but still, I like doing it - for now.
In my personal life, things are going well, I guess (compared to what, I don't know). I've moved into my new apartment in South Austin with Sara and Courtney. It's nice and big. I have taken on the unfortunate but not surprising role of thermostat nazi. However, I have justification for my diatribe. My room is the first off the air conditioner, so when the thermostat says 75, my bedroom is usually approaching sub-arctic temperatures. And when you have to get up at 3:30 in the am to go to a job you hate, the last thing you want is to be so ungodly cold that you can't climb out from under the three layers of bedding you have (in the summer)(in Texas) without collapsing into a puddle of shivering primate goo and rushing to the bathroom to take the hottest shower you can muster (when the hot water is working). Thus, we are seeking a happy medium. WINK
And this topic leads me to my final and petit digression, as I have to get to work. gmeh. I will say little more than this: Noting the aforementioned penchant (or lack thereof) for thermostatic restraint, please see my good friend Sara's (aka Bring the Pretty) blog for commentary on our lovely houseguest. or should I say vagrant. house-vagrant.
My life has basically become a black hole of groggy minutes between work, naptime, work, and sleep - or at least I feel that way most of the time. On the whole, I'm actually enjoying myself these days, in spite of my intense schedule and numerous deviant tribulations (read: malfunction, dysfunction, failure, breakdown).
I'm working two jobs right now. Still good ol' Starbucks - mostly to keep my self-esteem low. It's reached a point where every moment I spend in Starbucks is another moment I hate my life, just a little more. I usually get through my time there by thinking about happier days. Days in college and in London. When that doesn't work, I intentionally fuck up drinks for people I don't like while bitching about how stupid most people are, all the while aware that I'm one of those whiney college-graduate baristas who thinks himself morally and intellectually superior to most of his honest to god peers - and being aware that I have become this tortured stereotype just fans the flames of self-aggrandization and self-loathing.
On a positive note, I've also started working for a company called Apogee Telecommunications. It's actually a pretty nice place to work. I spend the bulk of my time answering the phone, instructing vacuous neurotic sorority girls in the complex and dark art of finding their control panel. However, I shant complain, as I am paid $12 to sit in a comfy chair, talk on the phone, and play on the internet for 12 hours at a stretch. A 12-hour shift at Apogee is a cake-walk compared to five minutes at Starbucks. AND I like what I do there. Granted, it's not the most intellectually stimulating job in the world, and technically it's not permanent, but still, I like doing it - for now.
In my personal life, things are going well, I guess (compared to what, I don't know). I've moved into my new apartment in South Austin with Sara and Courtney. It's nice and big. I have taken on the unfortunate but not surprising role of thermostat nazi. However, I have justification for my diatribe. My room is the first off the air conditioner, so when the thermostat says 75, my bedroom is usually approaching sub-arctic temperatures. And when you have to get up at 3:30 in the am to go to a job you hate, the last thing you want is to be so ungodly cold that you can't climb out from under the three layers of bedding you have (in the summer)(in Texas) without collapsing into a puddle of shivering primate goo and rushing to the bathroom to take the hottest shower you can muster (when the hot water is working). Thus, we are seeking a happy medium. WINK
And this topic leads me to my final and petit digression, as I have to get to work. gmeh. I will say little more than this: Noting the aforementioned penchant (or lack thereof) for thermostatic restraint, please see my good friend Sara's (aka Bring the Pretty) blog for commentary on our lovely houseguest. or should I say vagrant. house-vagrant.