Pfftggjrkrwsfdfdssfjllklsffftt! 2003-07-29 - 10:11 p.m.
All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go
I'm standin' here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye
But the dawn is breakin', it's early morn
The taxi's waitin', he's blowin' his horn
Already I'm so lonesome I could die
So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane
I don't know when I'll be back again
Oh, babe, I hate to go
-"Leaving on a Jet Plane"
****************
I'm sorry, this song was on the muzak tonight at werk. I wish I had someone to sing it too.
Tell me my loans are going to go through. Please??? Jeebus, I know I'm the Queen of All Procrastinators, but I need to learn not to procrastinate when large sums of educational loans are involved. That, or I need to time my revelations better.
Oooooh the very air around here is poisonous. Heavy. Threatening to push me back down with it's very weight. Grrr. Bad air, bad air!
Yeah. Enough obtuseness? obtusivity? obtusization? Today was a loooooooong day. I woke up to a "sorry, wrong number" phone call at 8:30, half an hour before my alarm. Yargh. I got up and did some odd jobs, still with the full intention of catching the earlier bus (a.k.a. the one that arrives at the mally-mall at noon as opposed to 1:05). But, I couldn't get my butt out of the shower in time. So, then I thought I'd better, use the extra time to call werk and tell them I would be a few minutes late (stupid 1-9 shift! I just can't get there at that time!), and *ahem* fill out the financial aid form accepting the loans.
(Pleeeeeeeeease tell me they're going to go through! I understand that I'm an idiot but I'm an idiot that deserves a master's degree! That makes no sense. Oh well!)
So, I started on a mad dash to the post office. Naturally, there was a gigundous line, which was filled with, and I kid you not, one person mailing books to the Netherlands and another mailing a weedwhacker of some sort to Iceland, among others. Thanks to the postal service, I missed the bus yet again.
I then had to run to the bank, because I realized I didn't even have enough cash for a cab. And then I had to run all over the place looking for a working pay phone to call the damn cab (seriously now, who wants to buy me a cell phone?).
I punched in to werk at 1:25.
I immediately walk in the stockroom (it is stock day, after all), to find that Snotty Shoe Girl had yes, very nicely taken shoes upon shoes out of the shipment boxes, but had not taken the paper out of a single box. Grrrrrrrrrr. I am glad I'm leaving. I am very close to wringing her scrawny little neck. And I'm not alone in this sentiment! She complains about the open-sell setup and how "there's nothing to do". Okay, maybe on the weekends that is the case. But not on stock day, when there are papers to be taken out of boxes but you A) take lunches lasting an HOUR (Sears gives you half an hour) B) take "fifteen minute" breaks lasting HALF AN HOUR and C) stand around talking to your friends.
So yeah. Snotty Shoe Girl is really getting on my nerves. As she is working in the morning tomorrow (I have the day off, woohoo!), I left her a big long note with lots of stuff left to do on it, with a postscript of "Lots to do! Maybe the day won't be so ridiculously boring!" I was trying to be nice.
I'm too nice.
*cue wavery Expressionist Scream face.... now!*
Well, I think I'm going to go take a bubble bath, and not think about panicky things or depressing things or anything like that. The perfect bubble bath music is Dashboard Confessional's The Swiss Army Romance. I don't know. Bah. Estrogen.