An illegal alien
An illegal alien
or,
I constantly fret
I think I'm going to invent a fur-incinerator. When I comb and brush my cat (at least daily) I put all of the fur in the garbage, where it inevitably flies out and lands everywhere. If I were to burn it immediately after getting it off the animal, this problem wouldn't exist.
I was talking to this guy at the bank today who lives in my apartment complex, and he said that we are allowed to have cats. I guess Ameer isn't an illegal alien, and I don't have to worry about hiding him if I ever need someone to come into my apartment for repairs or anything.
Speaking of Ameer, he seems to be determined to eat the tape that I put over the hole on the underside of my bed to prevent him from climbing in.
Shit, I still haven't gotten around to my homework or studying.
For that matter, I haven't gotten around to doing the dishes, going grocery shopping, vacuuming, or cooking.
Funny how I constantly fret about not having enough time to do everything but I surely always find time to update my livejournal.
Oh, this is a good one. "Employee appreciation week" is fast approaching at work. We have themes every day of the week for the way we can dress. I didn't participate last year at all, because I believe in looking respectable at work, but Mark is making me do it this year since I'm a manager. On Monday, I will have to wear a Hawaiin shirt. It may shock you to learn that I don't own one. Mark said that I had better go to the Salvation Army then. Tuesday shouldn't be so bad; we can wear jeans and a shirt talking about some destination. Wednesday is Wacky Wednesday. We have to wear a mismatched outfit. I don't think I can do it. Friday I get to wear shorts and something I can't remember. A week of being completely embarassed. That's how much I'm appreciated.
On the subject of how much I'm appreciated, my first quarter bonus was on my check yesterday. I received a whopping $80.10. For three months of working like a fucking slave, I was given the gift of eighty dollars and ten cents. I am incredulous beyond belief. For one thing, we were told that we had made four of our sales goals, but we just found out yesterday that we had only made three. For another, I was expecting the Teller Manager bonus, but I evidently was submitted as a teller for all three months. My bonus was the same as Beatrice's, which is fucking ludicrous because you can't even begin to understand how much more work I do than she.
I went to this suit warehouse close to my jobs today, so that I could procure a fashionable suit for the wedding of
Missadroit to
deus_x. I am pleased to report that the salesman said that I ought to have a suit with an athletic fit. I think the customers there are primarily black, so most of the brands there were for black men. Hell, I don't care. I wound up getting a Phat Farm suit that will flatter me incredibly and leave me looking beyond stunning. It is currently at a tailor's being altered. I can't wait to experiment with it to find the perfect shirt and tie combination.
I'm fixing to attempt to nap.
or,
I constantly fret
I think I'm going to invent a fur-incinerator. When I comb and brush my cat (at least daily) I put all of the fur in the garbage, where it inevitably flies out and lands everywhere. If I were to burn it immediately after getting it off the animal, this problem wouldn't exist.
I was talking to this guy at the bank today who lives in my apartment complex, and he said that we are allowed to have cats. I guess Ameer isn't an illegal alien, and I don't have to worry about hiding him if I ever need someone to come into my apartment for repairs or anything.
Speaking of Ameer, he seems to be determined to eat the tape that I put over the hole on the underside of my bed to prevent him from climbing in.
Shit, I still haven't gotten around to my homework or studying.
For that matter, I haven't gotten around to doing the dishes, going grocery shopping, vacuuming, or cooking.
Funny how I constantly fret about not having enough time to do everything but I surely always find time to update my livejournal.
Oh, this is a good one. "Employee appreciation week" is fast approaching at work. We have themes every day of the week for the way we can dress. I didn't participate last year at all, because I believe in looking respectable at work, but Mark is making me do it this year since I'm a manager. On Monday, I will have to wear a Hawaiin shirt. It may shock you to learn that I don't own one. Mark said that I had better go to the Salvation Army then. Tuesday shouldn't be so bad; we can wear jeans and a shirt talking about some destination. Wednesday is Wacky Wednesday. We have to wear a mismatched outfit. I don't think I can do it. Friday I get to wear shorts and something I can't remember. A week of being completely embarassed. That's how much I'm appreciated.
On the subject of how much I'm appreciated, my first quarter bonus was on my check yesterday. I received a whopping $80.10. For three months of working like a fucking slave, I was given the gift of eighty dollars and ten cents. I am incredulous beyond belief. For one thing, we were told that we had made four of our sales goals, but we just found out yesterday that we had only made three. For another, I was expecting the Teller Manager bonus, but I evidently was submitted as a teller for all three months. My bonus was the same as Beatrice's, which is fucking ludicrous because you can't even begin to understand how much more work I do than she.
I went to this suit warehouse close to my jobs today, so that I could procure a fashionable suit for the wedding of
Missadroit to
deus_x. I am pleased to report that the salesman said that I ought to have a suit with an athletic fit. I think the customers there are primarily black, so most of the brands there were for black men. Hell, I don't care. I wound up getting a Phat Farm suit that will flatter me incredibly and leave me looking beyond stunning. It is currently at a tailor's being altered. I can't wait to experiment with it to find the perfect shirt and tie combination.
I'm fixing to attempt to nap.