Sep. 6th, 2006

Have just changed my journal layout and theme for the first time since a failed attempt to customize it back when it was hard to do so. (The result was that my journal title was invisible. I kind of liked it that way.)
I've had the black text on white background for so long that the froufrou new style is kind of bothering me. I may switch back, but then, I've probably expended all the technical know-how I had for this year, so it's probably stuck as it is now. It's nice, but the theme is one that a friend has had for a while, which I had rather thought she had custom-designed, and while I admired it, I find it doesn't fit me quite as well.
Oh well. Later, perhaps.

I had all kinds of things I was going to blog and I seem to have not written them. Which is too bad. I don't remember what they were now, I merely remember that I had thought I had written them.

Yesterday I started my new schedule-- I start at 2:30 instead of 2:00 on Tuesdays, so I can take that late bus. It's niceish. I leave the house at 1:20 and arrive there... well, ostensibly 2:06, but it has never arrived on time, and yesterday the bus driver was a temp and almost got lost and didn't dare pass a slow truck on a four-lane road, so we did motherfucking 20 miles a motherfucking hour all the way down Main St. in Amherst, I shit you not, and arrived 20 minutes late. Which was still fine, as I clocked in at 2:24, well within my time limits for 2:30. It was so nice...

Tuesday's the only day I'm at 2:30, though. So, bah. It's the 11:12 bus for me this morning.

I didn't blog Labor Day, did I? No. Z just kinda didn't go to work. In the morning we ate bagels and then we went skating in Delaware Park. I discovered that I cannot skate with my left foot. This is kind of a problem. Then I took a nap, of all things.
Fiona came over for a couple hours in the afternoon. We just hung out-- I made a grilled tomato soup, but Fiona couldn't stay that late. She just had a drink and we chatted a million miles a minute while I butchered and broiled tomatoes.
After she left, all too soon, Z and I drank a bunch more and got ridiculously silly. We took a high-speed walk around the neighborhood ("Shh! We gotta maintain!" Z kept whispering, and I tried to hold his hand so we'd look normal and not-drunk, but he doesn't know how to hold hands. I should work out drunk: I feel pain but don't realize that it's mine, so it doesn't bother me or slow me down at all. It's kind of productive, really. But thank God we were smart enough not to wear the rollerskates or we'd've killed ourselves.) before eating everything in the fridge and passing out. All in all a good holiday, although I've now repaid back my sleep debt with interest and am kind of logy.

Z idly applied for a higher-paying job, just for shits and giggles. They emailed him back to schedule an interview and he's shitting large numbers of minibricks, but quietly. "Shh! We gotta maintain!" I don't know if he'll even go in for the interview. I mean, probably? But still. "Leaving [current job] is kinda like leaving a cult," he said just now. "Lots of yelling."
Also he likes it there, so what's the point of changing a good thing? But if they're not paying him what he's worth and he feels like being worth something, so much the better for him.



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