![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7From Strip Mining For Whimsy
Have never seen the show, but can empathize with the sentiment. Smug, slickly-written, well-produced shows with plot holes because writing isn't that important really annoy me. Shows on crack? Way better.
And that blog's pretty funny. Sometimes funny ha-ha, sometimes funny in the (to quote David Spade about Chris Farley) "Ohh. Ohh. That's sad." kinda way.
Am doing laundry, the mountains that have piled up while I worked oh so hard this long long week. (Hey. Shut up. I can be a drama queen about it if I like. It's my life as told by me and everything is hard but I persevere, in my version of myself. That's what weblogs are for. So there.) (Reality check: I've just worked five straight days. It's like I'm a normal person. Except that it was Friday to Wednesday. Hm.)
Plans for the day include revamping my website (so I can get rid of the link to Amazon under "my website", above; really I'm not a wishlist whore which is just as well because nobody looks at the wishlist, ha ha) which needs a lot of work so I'll probably just delete the old one. The plans also include paying all the late bills. And then I have to decide, f'real f'real, whether I need to apply for assistance.
I dare not assume I'll be getting more hours (8 more a week, regularly dependably, would mean financial solvency more or less if you ignore the student loans), given the topic and conclusion of my last discussion with the manager (Hmm... you didn't do anything wrong actually... but you were mentioned in a complaint, and that's what I'll remember, so you're vaguely in the bad books for having been noticed by a customer, because actually we don't pay any attention to positive comments by the way because we figure the bartender made the customer fill out the card [Me: Oh, that's nice. My location doesn't have comment cards anyway.] so yes, we disregard those... and you should've leapt across the bar and strangled your co-worker before she touched that plastic-wrapped food with her hands that had just touched her clean hair, knowing that the woman at the bar who wasn't even your customer would be offended.) so I'm going to assume the worst and plan conservatively.
Annoyingly enough, I counted my tips after arriving home last night and now can't find the wad of $40 from Local Bar. Hm. Where the fuck did I put it? I know it arrived at the house, and I found the receipt it was wrapped in, but I can't find the cash itself. Very annoying.
Gosh, I'm in a better mood than I thought! All is fucking sunshine and roses isn't it!!
Actually it is sunshiney out. The sunrise reflected off the white wall of the house outside my bedroom windows (how do you suburbanites COPE with that? Jesus. My entire view is vinyl siding) blinded me when I woke up and rolled over. It's nice to see my plants maybe not dying (I had to get a Gro-Lite on my jade plants this fall because the sun didn't come out for two solid weeks and they started wilting) and my house is so much prettier in the sunshine, but yo. It's fuggincold out there.
At least the house is clean, having been cleaned last week. My room's a disaster. But we won't get into it.
I hope to, on the website, come up with a better place to permanently post the Vikings-Novel, password-protected. I don't know how to do password protection. I want to ask Dave for help but he is deeply engrossed in growing his beard, so I'm reluctant to bug him. (Maybe I'm kidding; you folks following along at home can decide for yourselves.) But then I could have it up in whatever format I wanted, and then everyone interested (and only those interested) could look at it.
That's more work than I can do, and my webdesign skills are marginal at best and very rusty. Bleah.
So, in short, I need more money, I need more time, I need more of an attention span, I need a brain transfusion, I need to stop worrying about things, I need to fix things I can't so I can stop worrying, yadda yadda. But I have two days off in a row and maybe by tomorrow I'll be relaxed enough to be capable of doing something anything blah blah blah.
I am so articulate! Isn't that great?
If you've ever got some time on your hands, I highly recommend Alias. You'll have to sit through some bullshit to get to the good part, but there's definitely a place in that first season where you can tell the writers picked up a screaming smack habit and after that the show becomes compulsively watchable.
Have never seen the show, but can empathize with the sentiment. Smug, slickly-written, well-produced shows with plot holes because writing isn't that important really annoy me. Shows on crack? Way better.
And that blog's pretty funny. Sometimes funny ha-ha, sometimes funny in the (to quote David Spade about Chris Farley) "Ohh. Ohh. That's sad." kinda way.
Am doing laundry, the mountains that have piled up while I worked oh so hard this long long week. (Hey. Shut up. I can be a drama queen about it if I like. It's my life as told by me and everything is hard but I persevere, in my version of myself. That's what weblogs are for. So there.) (Reality check: I've just worked five straight days. It's like I'm a normal person. Except that it was Friday to Wednesday. Hm.)
Plans for the day include revamping my website (so I can get rid of the link to Amazon under "my website", above; really I'm not a wishlist whore which is just as well because nobody looks at the wishlist, ha ha) which needs a lot of work so I'll probably just delete the old one. The plans also include paying all the late bills. And then I have to decide, f'real f'real, whether I need to apply for assistance.
I dare not assume I'll be getting more hours (8 more a week, regularly dependably, would mean financial solvency more or less if you ignore the student loans), given the topic and conclusion of my last discussion with the manager (Hmm... you didn't do anything wrong actually... but you were mentioned in a complaint, and that's what I'll remember, so you're vaguely in the bad books for having been noticed by a customer, because actually we don't pay any attention to positive comments by the way because we figure the bartender made the customer fill out the card [Me: Oh, that's nice. My location doesn't have comment cards anyway.] so yes, we disregard those... and you should've leapt across the bar and strangled your co-worker before she touched that plastic-wrapped food with her hands that had just touched her clean hair, knowing that the woman at the bar who wasn't even your customer would be offended.) so I'm going to assume the worst and plan conservatively.
Annoyingly enough, I counted my tips after arriving home last night and now can't find the wad of $40 from Local Bar. Hm. Where the fuck did I put it? I know it arrived at the house, and I found the receipt it was wrapped in, but I can't find the cash itself. Very annoying.
Gosh, I'm in a better mood than I thought! All is fucking sunshine and roses isn't it!!
Actually it is sunshiney out. The sunrise reflected off the white wall of the house outside my bedroom windows (how do you suburbanites COPE with that? Jesus. My entire view is vinyl siding) blinded me when I woke up and rolled over. It's nice to see my plants maybe not dying (I had to get a Gro-Lite on my jade plants this fall because the sun didn't come out for two solid weeks and they started wilting) and my house is so much prettier in the sunshine, but yo. It's fuggincold out there.
At least the house is clean, having been cleaned last week. My room's a disaster. But we won't get into it.
I hope to, on the website, come up with a better place to permanently post the Vikings-Novel, password-protected. I don't know how to do password protection. I want to ask Dave for help but he is deeply engrossed in growing his beard, so I'm reluctant to bug him. (Maybe I'm kidding; you folks following along at home can decide for yourselves.) But then I could have it up in whatever format I wanted, and then everyone interested (and only those interested) could look at it.
That's more work than I can do, and my webdesign skills are marginal at best and very rusty. Bleah.
So, in short, I need more money, I need more time, I need more of an attention span, I need a brain transfusion, I need to stop worrying about things, I need to fix things I can't so I can stop worrying, yadda yadda. But I have two days off in a row and maybe by tomorrow I'll be relaxed enough to be capable of doing something anything blah blah blah.
I am so articulate! Isn't that great?
