“sure. i am on a drug. it’s called CHARLIE SHEEN! it’s not available because if you try it once, you will die, your face will melt off and your children will weep over your exploded body.”
-wish i had said this first
- me: wow those last ten minutes lasted FOR EVER
- Jeffrey: lol why?
- me: just waiting for it to be 5pm so i could answer the phone "good evening" instead of "good afternoon"
I think my problem is that right now, I’ll take a job doing literally anything. Ok, maybe not like, sewer worker or butt doctor (I hear you need a PhD anyway). But pretty much anything else. And I think employers don’t want to hear that. They want to hear, “THIS IS EXACTLY THE JOB I WANT AND HAVE ALWAYS DREAMED OF!” But really, my attitude is, “Teach me a new skill and I will kick ass at it. I will work in a woodshop. I will be a magician’s apprentice. I will sell knives on television. I will teach your children to read. I will repair watches. I will write catalog copy.” I don’t even care! And it’s not about money (though I could really use a steady paycheck), it’s about having some sort of skill and schedule and purpose, even if that purpose is learning how to levitate from David Blaine. I’ve applied to about 80 Craigslist jobs that probably don’t exist, or are leftover from the Craigslist Killer and now he can’t respond to them to tell me to meet him in a dark alley for the job interview because he’s dead. And I feel like that guy who was asking millionaires for one million dollars but SERIOUSLY, just give me ONE job, people who hire people. I know you’re out there. And I’m so good at doing things!
EDIT: I appreciate people “liking” this post, but maybe in addition to “liking” it, you could give me a job. Thanks.
i was going to call the gym to ask what time they close, but now that i’m a member, do i have to call and ask what time we close? i don’t know how to be a member of anything, especially a gym. especially a place where the mutual goal is to get healthy. once in high school i considered joining a club. it was called the “watch Friends and eat food club” or something. i assume the title is self explanatory, but if it’s not, i think what they did as a club was sit in a classroom during lunch hour and watch dvds of Friends and eat pizza. mutual goal: to be a big nerd. i didn’t end up joining that club because even i wasn’t that much of a loser in high school. (though my sharpied converse might beg to differ.)
now i’m a part of this club i don’t even know how to dress for. i don’t own leggings. my only shorts are these bright red american apparel LOOK AT ME I’M YOUNG AND SUPER HIP shorts. i left my running shoes in LA months ago, so now I wear these similarly SUPER HIP RED AND BLUE ASIX that i bought one day to be cool and they are definitely not good to exercise in, and basically I look like a total tool trying to fit into a club with a bunch of moms who just dropped their children off at daycare. i look like michael cera in juno. i just need a goofy headband (which I HAVE and should USE but i can’t because it just completes the outfit all too well). and these other women are reading SELF magazine or watching the news in their LuluLemon leggings, and I’m listening to Robyn sing about Fembots.
i used to belong to a coffee shop club when i was barista. i could say things like “we don’t carry one-percent milk, sorry.” it was always a WE situation because sometimes i made the damn milk orders and I knew exactly what we did or did not have. but now i’m a temp, and it’s the opposite of a we. it’s like hanging out on the outskirts of someone else’s club every day. and they all have their lingo and their little water cooler jokes going on (“alright suzanne, i want to know WHO is in charge of the weather ASAP because they are in trouble! this snow has go to go! aahahahaahaha oh suzanne.”) and i just sit there and twiddle my thumbs and answer the phone “blahblahblah, how can we help you?”
i guess at some point (the point where i join a twenty-something-friendly gym, or the point where i get a real job i enjoy) i’ll be able to become a member of something. until then, i’ll probably just buy real running shoes and make jokes about the weather or how barbara never lends out her 3-hole-punch.
- Me: I'm so lazy.
- Jeff: No you're not. You just like to not do anything.
“To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering, one must not love. But, then one suffers from not loving. Therefore, to love is to suffer, not to love is to suffer, to suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love, to be happy, then, is to suffer, but suffering makes one unhappy, therefore, to be unhappy one must love, or love to suffer, or suffer from too much happiness — I hope you’re getting this down.” - Woody Allen
- me: a lotta these raisins have stems
- like um hello, i clearly paid $3.09 for stemless ones
- Kayla: ugh ferreal
- angry letter time
- me: omg think of all the free raisins!
- dear sun-maid raisin factory,
- normally i love to eat raisins by the handful
- sometimes i just put my mouth to the box and tilt my head back
- i was unpleasantly surprised when YOUR raisins had stems
- how could i stick my tongue into a bowl of raisins and lap them up if they have stems?
- i have to eat them individually, picking the stem from each raisin
- it's taken minutes from my day, and possibly days from my eventual lifespan
- i might as well have just smoked a pack of cigarettes every day since birth
last night we did crafts with oragami paper.
i made this fat crab:
my boyfriend made this man without pants:
then we played boggle. “what’s a LODE?” i asked him. “you must mean LOAD, you giant idiot.”
“no, lode is a vein of ore,” he said.
someday i will beat him at crafts and also at word games. or i’ll just challenge him to a game called “Based on a Still From an Episode of Friends, Who Can Tell What Episode it’s from First?”