(no subject)
this is the first saturday morning i didn't have to drive to plaquemine for work at 8am.
it's also my brother's 22nd and my cousin's 9th birthday.
i'll be at calendar's for 11am and then straight to walmart until 9pm.
i can admit that i hate both of my jobs. not so much the actual work, but the atmosphere and the people.
for some reason i host the majority of the time at Calendar's.
aside from it being bitch work and me not making any money (the whole reason behind working), the place where a hostess has to stand just so happens to accumulate all the smoke generated in the restaurant (cigarette, grill, etc).
my eyes sting, water, and redden, my throat closes, i can't breathe let alone talk.
wednesday night it got to a point that, by the time i took the 20 minutes to drive to plaquemine walmart, i was light-headed, delirious, and basically asphyxiating from sinus pressure and some other respiratory ailments.
they allowed me to go home, glad to save a few hours on their payroll.
i went to my parent's house, rested, and then drove home.
all i wanted was a bowl of hot soup, a fucking huge margarita, some tylenol sinus, and to get laid.
a combination i've never craved before.
we all know who saved the day, delivering each one of my requests simultaneously.
later, i felt well enough to finally do some laundry. to stay awake, i turned on the television, landing on an episode of "GirlFriends" for some reason, the valentine's special.
at that moment some character was trying to bullshit his lady, and he casually worked "i hunt for the liquid measure of your steps" into his lines.
to understand the magnitude of this, i believe you'd had to have been eating dinner with me in Valley on a certain day in October 2001.
in my illness and delirium, sated with all the Cock i could ever want sleeping a few feet away and my everlasting styrofoamed margarita still truckin', i realized that thanks to livejournal, Pablo Neruda, and Waffle House, everything comes full circle. i've proof that this trinity is the center of the universe.
it's also my brother's 22nd and my cousin's 9th birthday.
i'll be at calendar's for 11am and then straight to walmart until 9pm.
i can admit that i hate both of my jobs. not so much the actual work, but the atmosphere and the people.
for some reason i host the majority of the time at Calendar's.
aside from it being bitch work and me not making any money (the whole reason behind working), the place where a hostess has to stand just so happens to accumulate all the smoke generated in the restaurant (cigarette, grill, etc).
my eyes sting, water, and redden, my throat closes, i can't breathe let alone talk.
wednesday night it got to a point that, by the time i took the 20 minutes to drive to plaquemine walmart, i was light-headed, delirious, and basically asphyxiating from sinus pressure and some other respiratory ailments.
they allowed me to go home, glad to save a few hours on their payroll.
i went to my parent's house, rested, and then drove home.
all i wanted was a bowl of hot soup, a fucking huge margarita, some tylenol sinus, and to get laid.
a combination i've never craved before.
we all know who saved the day, delivering each one of my requests simultaneously.
later, i felt well enough to finally do some laundry. to stay awake, i turned on the television, landing on an episode of "GirlFriends" for some reason, the valentine's special.
at that moment some character was trying to bullshit his lady, and he casually worked "i hunt for the liquid measure of your steps" into his lines.
to understand the magnitude of this, i believe you'd had to have been eating dinner with me in Valley on a certain day in October 2001.
in my illness and delirium, sated with all the Cock i could ever want sleeping a few feet away and my everlasting styrofoamed margarita still truckin', i realized that thanks to livejournal, Pablo Neruda, and Waffle House, everything comes full circle. i've proof that this trinity is the center of the universe.