Words Cannot Express
Who even reads this anymore? Who do I even talk to anymore?
No matter cuz things is fucking going great. Believe.
New job. Doing same shit but more hours, better pay, Saturdays alternate, and it's not fucking Berkeley. Fremont. Yes, that Fremont. And yes, this is an improvement.
Wanna hear the newest shit they've pulled? Starting Monday, all the aides are being seperated into specific sections of the library. Permanently. Some unfortunate friends of mine are now permanently stationed in Children's, God help their doomed souls. Not only that, but others are being transferred to goddamn branches. Their rationale is they're doing this to save our jobs: but by seperating the co-workers and thus diminishing any sense of worker solidarity and commeraderie, I think the result is more akin to making everyone feel hopeless in their respective situations. Divide and conquer, people. Divide and conquer.
I can't wait for their vision of the 21st century library to come crashing down in flames and there not being anybody left to pick up the pieces.
Oh, but they're so sorry to let me go. I was such a good worker and they're gonna miss me and blah blah blah. They're just mad I'm not gonna give them the satisfaction of crushing my spirit.
Going away party slated for Tuesday. Time to amp up the fake charm for my final farewell. Hmm, maybe I'll make flan. Hey, I take any excuse I can get.
School's going good. Lotsa reading. Guess who is in my Gay Lit class? Yes, an ex. Yes, that ex. Whateves. We're reading Baldwin. Pat Robertson could be in the class and it wouldn't faze me.
Ok, maybe it'd faze me a little bit.
Tomorrows Ricky's birthday. That's right, 20-freakin-finally-freakin-1. Probly gonna go see Sin City and play it mellow. However, next week is the Ricky/Dom club/bar-hop'stravaganza. If you're free that Saturday night and want to see how Dom reacts when immersed completely in Gay culture (and at a legal drinking age, at that) then by all means drag your ass with us. You can't recreate things like this, people.
No matter cuz things is fucking going great. Believe.
New job. Doing same shit but more hours, better pay, Saturdays alternate, and it's not fucking Berkeley. Fremont. Yes, that Fremont. And yes, this is an improvement.
Wanna hear the newest shit they've pulled? Starting Monday, all the aides are being seperated into specific sections of the library. Permanently. Some unfortunate friends of mine are now permanently stationed in Children's, God help their doomed souls. Not only that, but others are being transferred to goddamn branches. Their rationale is they're doing this to save our jobs: but by seperating the co-workers and thus diminishing any sense of worker solidarity and commeraderie, I think the result is more akin to making everyone feel hopeless in their respective situations. Divide and conquer, people. Divide and conquer.
I can't wait for their vision of the 21st century library to come crashing down in flames and there not being anybody left to pick up the pieces.
Oh, but they're so sorry to let me go. I was such a good worker and they're gonna miss me and blah blah blah. They're just mad I'm not gonna give them the satisfaction of crushing my spirit.
Going away party slated for Tuesday. Time to amp up the fake charm for my final farewell. Hmm, maybe I'll make flan. Hey, I take any excuse I can get.
School's going good. Lotsa reading. Guess who is in my Gay Lit class? Yes, an ex. Yes, that ex. Whateves. We're reading Baldwin. Pat Robertson could be in the class and it wouldn't faze me.
Ok, maybe it'd faze me a little bit.
Tomorrows Ricky's birthday. That's right, 20-freakin-finally-freakin-1. Probly gonna go see Sin City and play it mellow. However, next week is the Ricky/Dom club/bar-hop'stravaganza. If you're free that Saturday night and want to see how Dom reacts when immersed completely in Gay culture (and at a legal drinking age, at that) then by all means drag your ass with us. You can't recreate things like this, people.