back in the honey haven
Second year is a thing of the past, and now my universe is one of pain and emptiness! No its not, I'm a lier. Actually finishing second year is probably the rough equivalent of finally finding out you have a 300 pound lemur hanging on to your neck and you finally find him some lemur-food to get him off of you. Sure, he's dry humped you silly, but you can forgive that because its over now. Now I'll quickly sum up my last week or so of school. School school school. There, done. And hopefully no one's bored yet.
I've got a few days off, about a week total, before employment kicks into gear and I can start making physical money for my hard work, rather then mental money which doesn't count for much at Pizza Pizza, no matter how hard you try to reason with the cock jockey behind the counter. Management of the office at my family's marina -- yeah sure, no pressure there at all. I screw up, I'm sure it doesn't really mean much...oh, other then that my family is eating wet cat food for dinner for the remainder of the year. Worried? Not really I guess, a little responsibility may actually make working seem more important than just trudging through a menial task for several months. Not that such a task is bad, I've just been doing the same menial task for a few years and think I need a change. We shall see how it goes.
I'm not sure if I'm happy to be home just yet. I am happy for the change in atmosphere, but the socializing is a little different here. It requires a crap load of planning and takes all of the fun spontinaity out of it (and I do love spontaneous-ness). On the other side, the place where I sleep is clean, the food doesn't consist solely of chicken fingers and bread w/ peanut butter. And as much as I like peanut butter, variety is the spice of life -- and it doesn't get stuck to the top of your mouth.
Which is good in my book.
I've got a few days off, about a week total, before employment kicks into gear and I can start making physical money for my hard work, rather then mental money which doesn't count for much at Pizza Pizza, no matter how hard you try to reason with the cock jockey behind the counter. Management of the office at my family's marina -- yeah sure, no pressure there at all. I screw up, I'm sure it doesn't really mean much...oh, other then that my family is eating wet cat food for dinner for the remainder of the year. Worried? Not really I guess, a little responsibility may actually make working seem more important than just trudging through a menial task for several months. Not that such a task is bad, I've just been doing the same menial task for a few years and think I need a change. We shall see how it goes.
I'm not sure if I'm happy to be home just yet. I am happy for the change in atmosphere, but the socializing is a little different here. It requires a crap load of planning and takes all of the fun spontinaity out of it (and I do love spontaneous-ness). On the other side, the place where I sleep is clean, the food doesn't consist solely of chicken fingers and bread w/ peanut butter. And as much as I like peanut butter, variety is the spice of life -- and it doesn't get stuck to the top of your mouth.
Which is good in my book.