grr...
At work right now. Been here almost 12 hours. Got another one at least to go. I was supposed to leave around 5. Someone called out, and rather than argue with her, I caved and said I'd work. I am a jackass. And exhausted. And hungry. And pissed the fuck off. At least I'll have good hours on my paycheck...
On a side note, I'm not mad at anyone, but it really sucks that pretty much all of my non-work friends (except Toph who will be hanging with his gf on her last night in the States and M, who , in case she reads this, is awesome!) are not going to be in town for my 30th birthday . Which is in 2 weeks. And which is one of those landmark birthdays, I think, which should be celebrated in a big-ass way. Instead, I'm going to dinner with my family this Saturday (my dad turned 60 on Thanksgiving so we're having a joint dinner), and that's all I got goin' on. I have been planning to get a tattoo for my birthday (my word, it's been 5 years since the first one!), so that may happen on the day, or maybe that weekend. Yeah. That's it. And it's no one's fault, my birthday is the damn day after Christmas. But still. Fucking sucks, man. And I know everyone will want to buy me a drink in January, which is when I usually have to celebrate my birthday, and that'll be fun. But I'm still sad and pissed. But please, if you're one of the two people who reads this, don't fret, I'm not mad at anyone but the Universe (again, that fucker) and maybe my mom's womb, for chucking me out at such an inconvenient time.
OK, enough dicking around the office, I have to go back to work for realsies...
On a side note, I'm not mad at anyone, but it really sucks that pretty much all of my non-work friends (except Toph who will be hanging with his gf on her last night in the States and M, who , in case she reads this, is awesome!) are not going to be in town for my 30th birthday . Which is in 2 weeks. And which is one of those landmark birthdays, I think, which should be celebrated in a big-ass way. Instead, I'm going to dinner with my family this Saturday (my dad turned 60 on Thanksgiving so we're having a joint dinner), and that's all I got goin' on. I have been planning to get a tattoo for my birthday (my word, it's been 5 years since the first one!), so that may happen on the day, or maybe that weekend. Yeah. That's it. And it's no one's fault, my birthday is the damn day after Christmas. But still. Fucking sucks, man. And I know everyone will want to buy me a drink in January, which is when I usually have to celebrate my birthday, and that'll be fun. But I'm still sad and pissed. But please, if you're one of the two people who reads this, don't fret, I'm not mad at anyone but the Universe (again, that fucker) and maybe my mom's womb, for chucking me out at such an inconvenient time.
OK, enough dicking around the office, I have to go back to work for realsies...