He who says I do not love her--well, that man is a liar.
I have "L.A. Woman" by the Doors playing in my head over and over again. By lunchtime, the mojo had risen an estimated 17 times, and it continued to rise about 20-23 more times after lunch.
I can't wait to have a shiny pretty paid journal.
Speaking of shiny and pretty, I need to redo my nails.
I crave pancakes, the food of the Gods. We have nothing to eat here. I think I want to go to IHOP. I can afford it, yo.
Talked to Billie about OT. She said that it wouldn't be a problem, since the OT was voluntary and I am getting paid for it. So everything has fallen out as jurhael foresaw. I will not be working any more OT this week, since my car has to go into the shop and I'm not working on a holiday weekend.
It seems we are hiring again. I wish they'd be a little more upfront when we're hiring somebody, because what always happens is that somebody comes in and stands in the lobby going, "Hello? Hello? HELLO?" over and over again during lunch. (Not only is this abominably rude, but it's annoying as shit.) It used to be that I was the only one who ate lunch at the office, so I usually had to listen to eager babbling and "Oh, oh, oh! I came by and nobody was here!" (Uh, hello, fucktard. It's our goddamn lunch hour. You do not fuck with mealtime when you're dealing with abstractors, for mealtime is all-good and is one of the few things we have to look forward to during the day.)
m0mmy and I talked about my father. I have come to the conclusion that he doesn't give a shit about me. I don't want to love him. I don't think he deserves my love. And you know, it's a fucking hoot how "proud" he supposedly is of me when nothing I have ever done in my entire life has ever been good enough for him.
m0mmy thinks it pains him that we are almost total strangers to one another. He has only himself to blame for that. She seemed upset that he did not remember my birthday. I don't care; the people who are actually important to me did, and that was enough for me.
People like my father are the reason I think it should be perfectly legal to hunt yuppies and nouveaux riches. There would have to be a limit, of course, and one would have to have a license just as one has to do to hunt deer. Open season on yuppie scum would be great. I'd start by plugging people who use their cell phones in the library.
I would not, of course, plug my own father; he is kin, and the Gods do not forgive that. However, bagging his wife at the Clinique counter would be pretty goddamn hilarious. Hey, I can dream.
In other stupid news, I want to read about Alexander the Great and about Japan. Also, I have assorted RPG stuff to do. And: a walk, and then IHOP.
PANCAKES!
I can't wait to have a shiny pretty paid journal.
Speaking of shiny and pretty, I need to redo my nails.
I crave pancakes, the food of the Gods. We have nothing to eat here. I think I want to go to IHOP. I can afford it, yo.
Talked to Billie about OT. She said that it wouldn't be a problem, since the OT was voluntary and I am getting paid for it. So everything has fallen out as jurhael foresaw. I will not be working any more OT this week, since my car has to go into the shop and I'm not working on a holiday weekend.
It seems we are hiring again. I wish they'd be a little more upfront when we're hiring somebody, because what always happens is that somebody comes in and stands in the lobby going, "Hello? Hello? HELLO?" over and over again during lunch. (Not only is this abominably rude, but it's annoying as shit.) It used to be that I was the only one who ate lunch at the office, so I usually had to listen to eager babbling and "Oh, oh, oh! I came by and nobody was here!" (Uh, hello, fucktard. It's our goddamn lunch hour. You do not fuck with mealtime when you're dealing with abstractors, for mealtime is all-good and is one of the few things we have to look forward to during the day.)
m0mmy and I talked about my father. I have come to the conclusion that he doesn't give a shit about me. I don't want to love him. I don't think he deserves my love. And you know, it's a fucking hoot how "proud" he supposedly is of me when nothing I have ever done in my entire life has ever been good enough for him.
m0mmy thinks it pains him that we are almost total strangers to one another. He has only himself to blame for that. She seemed upset that he did not remember my birthday. I don't care; the people who are actually important to me did, and that was enough for me.
People like my father are the reason I think it should be perfectly legal to hunt yuppies and nouveaux riches. There would have to be a limit, of course, and one would have to have a license just as one has to do to hunt deer. Open season on yuppie scum would be great. I'd start by plugging people who use their cell phones in the library.
I would not, of course, plug my own father; he is kin, and the Gods do not forgive that. However, bagging his wife at the Clinique counter would be pretty goddamn hilarious. Hey, I can dream.
In other stupid news, I want to read about Alexander the Great and about Japan. Also, I have assorted RPG stuff to do. And: a walk, and then IHOP.
PANCAKES!