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dragonlady7I'm sort of surprised that most people aren't doing the usual "oh __ years ago today I" stuff (although here's a good one). I'm glad I had my journal then because it's interesting to reread what I thought at the time; much is quite different but some things are still the same. (I blogged infrequently then, but when I did, it was always epic.)
I started this blog in July of that year and I can safely say that I had a far less-fulfilling life then.
I say that smugly, and yet cannot muster myself the strength of will to get out of this bed and do anything before I go to work because I know work will kick my ass.
I did go out last night. Z and I went down to Caffe Aroma and had coffees, and then went over to the Rendezvous and had some beers and some fried mushrooms and sat out on the patio and talked about opening a geek bar. (Ideally, two bars, next to one another like Toro and Flaherty's down on Elmwood-- Flaherty's is an Irish pub, Toro a tapas bar, and a Greek man owns both-- so, a dork bar and a nerd bar, as they'd have overlapping clientele but the clientele should not mix.)
I wish I didn't care about health insurance. I'd like to get experience at a real bar. But a real bar isn't likely to give me much by way of health benefits.
In other news, I think I may well win my current schedule when bidding for shifts, because I don't think anyone senior to me is dumb enough to want to do what I do. But am I dumb enough to want to do what I do? ... For $600/week after taxes, I think I am. For a while, anyway.
But I hate Sundays, and yet am determined that I will show up today, and do my work, because while Sundays are loathsome they are often lucrative, and Mondays are pointless and stupid and make me hurt my feet. (My foot is sort of ok today, astonishingly. I guess it just needed a little more time than usual to go away on its own.)
But an informal survey of my coworkers agrees: Sundays used to be awesome and now suck, and I don't really know why. We'll see once football season starts how we feel then.
I started this blog in July of that year and I can safely say that I had a far less-fulfilling life then.
I say that smugly, and yet cannot muster myself the strength of will to get out of this bed and do anything before I go to work because I know work will kick my ass.
I did go out last night. Z and I went down to Caffe Aroma and had coffees, and then went over to the Rendezvous and had some beers and some fried mushrooms and sat out on the patio and talked about opening a geek bar. (Ideally, two bars, next to one another like Toro and Flaherty's down on Elmwood-- Flaherty's is an Irish pub, Toro a tapas bar, and a Greek man owns both-- so, a dork bar and a nerd bar, as they'd have overlapping clientele but the clientele should not mix.)
I wish I didn't care about health insurance. I'd like to get experience at a real bar. But a real bar isn't likely to give me much by way of health benefits.
In other news, I think I may well win my current schedule when bidding for shifts, because I don't think anyone senior to me is dumb enough to want to do what I do. But am I dumb enough to want to do what I do? ... For $600/week after taxes, I think I am. For a while, anyway.
But I hate Sundays, and yet am determined that I will show up today, and do my work, because while Sundays are loathsome they are often lucrative, and Mondays are pointless and stupid and make me hurt my feet. (My foot is sort of ok today, astonishingly. I guess it just needed a little more time than usual to go away on its own.)
But an informal survey of my coworkers agrees: Sundays used to be awesome and now suck, and I don't really know why. We'll see once football season starts how we feel then.
