Point out the problem with this scenario. I get into my car and drive to a temp agency, dressed in interview attire. I roll my window down to let the smoke trail out into the chilly air. My radio spews out Sex Pistols Nevermind the Bollocks. When I walk into the temp agency I fill out my paper work and wait for my chance to talk to someone ( Read more... )

Somewhere between my crossword puzzle and Capt. Crunch I realized that breakfast cereal is like wine. Once it's opened it never gets better than the first day it's opened. It can only get stale and brittle. With that said, I don't think it's right to eat half a box of cereal in one sitting. Especially if it's the Sgt. of Crunch. Sickness is ( Read more... )

The following takes place via text message between 3:55 p.m. and 5:32 p.m. Names have been withheld to protect the parties ( Read more... )

I don't even know why I talk to you, it's not really all that helpful. You just sit there so far away from me that it feels like I'm just talking to myself. It's like, if you're in the room and I'm talking then I'm not crazy. I don't find this therapeutic. It makes me feel nuts, because what sort of output do you give me. None. You sit there ( Read more... )

Online test/screening ( Read more... )

It looks like Roanoke is pulling me a little faster than I thought. I'm making a last meal of my perishables. Milk, Meat, Bread. I had a great talk with Brandon last night. Good Times, sometimes I think I'll miss having him to talk to when I'm out having a beer. I know I'll have to be back to The QC for the rest of my shit and to turn in the ( Read more... )

Rhetorical question ( Read more... )

I hate this part of the moving process. Because my bank account and amount of days I have left here are about the same or at least diminishing at about the same rate. Alright, bank account a little faster than days left ( Read more... )

It's the kind of night that brings up lots of memories. A cold night, finally. A night where the cold seeps into me from the concrete where I sit. I sit Indian style on the concrete against the wall outside my apartment. A gentle breeze blows the smoke out from my lips and around my head. My ear is pressed against my phone listening to my ( Read more... )

I've been drained and pissed off too much to get any writing done. Talk about strange sleep schedule it'll be two days fully awake and then one day of non-stop sleep. It's been an uphill battle. On to not writing and not really feeling all that bad about it. I don't know what's been going on apart from not having a job that's been making me ( Read more... )