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Wednesday, August 6th, 2003
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7:23p - why is the rum gone!?!
YES!!!! check out my horoscope:
aries (Mar. 21st-Apr. 20th) Go to bed without brushing your teeth for once. Hit the snooze button a third time. Leave on the conditioner for a minute longer than the bottle tells you to. You know: go nuts. Most of all, let your heart rule your head. Remember, it doesn't have to "make sense," it just has to be legal and consensual. If anyone questions your state of mind, just tell them that if loving this way is wrong, you don't want to be right.
that's like a free pass, isn't it? and horoscopes are totally reliable. i'ma do whatever i want for the rest of the month, yeah! suckas. drugs, booze, girls, you name it, i'm doin' it. twice.
that said, seriously, find me a new job, okay? could one of you do that because i'm just about ready to do a walk about with my fingers in the air and then quit half-baked-style: fuck you, fuck you fuck you, you're cool, fuck you--i'm out!
you'd think that my office life would be a constant party, what with the money and the numbers and the powerpoint and all, you'd think that wouldn't you, but you'd be so terribly wrong. working here is a weird combination of time warp and time vacuum...time either disappears or holds very very still. sometimes it does both at the same time, which is disconcerting to say the least. time seems to stand still most often when i'm stuck in a conversation with one of the people in my group that i want to throw through a window, and would, in a world with no consequences. a couple months back, i kind of switched groups--the frat boys and fake-tan bleached-smile girls are in the north quadrant now, and you know, i am actually starting to miss them a little. they at least got the fucking hint. these new assholes will keep talking to my back as i walk away, five feet, ten, fifteen, oh, still talking! they're the kind of people who will chat chat chat away about their fucking cats or their new house on mercer island, never noticing that kill me now look in your eyes, and then--AND THEN--have the audacity to say "oh, well, i should get back to work" like it's your fucking fault they wouldn't shut UP and all you can think is "oh, do you have to leave so soon? i was just about to poison your coffee. oh, and please, in future, wake up the peglegged rodent operating that wheel-powered brain of yours before you start talking."
man, they suck. i don't want to be in the weird old people with cats group! and i don't want responsibility and i don't want to work. i shouldn't have to work, i have a delicate psyche. i should just get money for being my awesome self, don't you think? in the meantime, i need to step up my search for a wealthy husband.
"i don't care if he's rich or poor, fat or thin, as long as he's rich and thin"
current mood: irate
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