(no subject)
I had a long talk with a bus driver yesterday. He didn't know where he was going so I had to give him directions. He was a chatty fellow, so he told me to sit and talk to him. I complied, and we discussed our employment issues. He is assigned a different route every week. I'm given a new job title every week. He doesn't like that his boss makes him do a bunch of extra work with no training or time. I have unrealistic deadlines on all of my work. He can't afford to go to Cancun. I can't afford to leave the house...
So we bitched, and that made me a bit happier. As my recent journal entries suggest, I have not been in a good place lately. Feeling alienated, unenthusiastic, trapped, and uneasy all the time doesn't make for cheery LJ entries. I'm very close to walking from this job. I've said it before, but there's a difference. My cheque might bounce this week. If that happens, I will have absolutely no reason to stay in this crap hole. Is crap-hole hyphenated? Too late now, you hair-combin' nose-blowers!
ONTO THE CHEERINESS!
"I'll shoot the moon, right out of the sky. For you, baby..."
Anita bought me the Stars cd, seeing as I did want to hear it before we go see them in April. I've listened to the Organ for the last couple of months, so I'm clear on the goodness of that album. I basically don't want this to turn out like Supergrass. I hardly knew ANY of their songs, why did I agree to travel two hours out of my way and spend upwards of $200 to see a band I'm not really fond of? 'Cause I'm a grade A sucker...
Oh, Colonel is MIA right now. Yesterday I fed him and he crawled all over the place (the worst was when he crawled onto my monitor during a meeting with my boss). Last night I found a dead ladybug on my kitchen counter, and immediately I envisioned him crawling into my coat pocket and coming home with me, only to be killed by a wrongly-placed wine bottle. Poor guy. That Jackson Triggs ain't gonna see anotha summertime for cuttin' down my brotha, and leavin' him like a dog beneath a car without his knife...
But I digress.
Never trust a man in a blue trench coat,
Never drive a car when you're dead,
Chris
So we bitched, and that made me a bit happier. As my recent journal entries suggest, I have not been in a good place lately. Feeling alienated, unenthusiastic, trapped, and uneasy all the time doesn't make for cheery LJ entries. I'm very close to walking from this job. I've said it before, but there's a difference. My cheque might bounce this week. If that happens, I will have absolutely no reason to stay in this crap hole. Is crap-hole hyphenated? Too late now, you hair-combin' nose-blowers!
ONTO THE CHEERINESS!
"I'll shoot the moon, right out of the sky. For you, baby..."
Anita bought me the Stars cd, seeing as I did want to hear it before we go see them in April. I've listened to the Organ for the last couple of months, so I'm clear on the goodness of that album. I basically don't want this to turn out like Supergrass. I hardly knew ANY of their songs, why did I agree to travel two hours out of my way and spend upwards of $200 to see a band I'm not really fond of? 'Cause I'm a grade A sucker...
Oh, Colonel is MIA right now. Yesterday I fed him and he crawled all over the place (the worst was when he crawled onto my monitor during a meeting with my boss). Last night I found a dead ladybug on my kitchen counter, and immediately I envisioned him crawling into my coat pocket and coming home with me, only to be killed by a wrongly-placed wine bottle. Poor guy. That Jackson Triggs ain't gonna see anotha summertime for cuttin' down my brotha, and leavin' him like a dog beneath a car without his knife...
But I digress.
Never trust a man in a blue trench coat,
Never drive a car when you're dead,
Chris