I have tentatively broken things off with Murray. I informed him that having to write about one more aluminum beach chair would probably do me in. I am currently on some sort of Ricky Williams probationary hiatus while the league of internet furniture racketeers waits for me to recuperate from my flake-out. It is possible that I will change my
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I work at a bank, where I enjoy talking to my coworkers and live in constant fear that I'll deposit 3,000,000 dollars in someones account instead of 3,000. Or that I'll find out that my coworkers have been very easy on me thus far and that my boss is going to call me into her office for a little chat about how I should be answering the phone more quickly. I don't think I like customer service, I like people, but not random strangers who expect me to know their names because they've been banking here for twenty years.
Otherwise, not much has changed. I play D&D, occasionally make music, and seem to be learning how to let go of past loves a little less painfully.
Tentatively I'm saving money so that I can go somewhere and do something else in 6-8 months, but I haven't really applied for anything, applications are just so.. effort dependent. Really I just dread getting letters of recomendation.
In short, ennui, occasionally interrupted by erruptions of hope.
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