"I just gotta get out of this prison cell/someday I'm gonna be free Lord..."

Sorry, had to throw a random lyric in there. Anyway, before work I went to the bookstore and bought "Where the Sidewalk Ends", "How the Grinch Stole Christmas", "A Charlie Brown Christmas", and some other little kid Christmasy book for the kids in the store's adopted family. They range in age from 2-12 so I think they can divvy those up somehow.

One more little stamp thing and I get a free sub from Subway. Subway subs are good. As are Subway cookies.

Work was quite busy. Apparently I did my scheduled job of cleaning out the fitting rooms from behind the register. I had to sell George Foreman grills to irate old ladies for $14.99 because that's what the sign said (granted the sign is usually for a different item entirely because irate old ladies apparently do not know how to read). By about 3:30 the happy feeling I got from buying those books had worn off and I was ready to tell each successive old lady where to stick her bun warmer AND her buns.

Tomorrow I work 6-11PM. 11. Ugh. Twice next week I get stuck working 4-11. The closet morning person in me cringes at the thought. But hey, after next Friday, retail can kiss my ass in hell. But anyway, good mall tomorrow afternoon. Good mall is good. Good mall has Taco Bell.

40 pages left of that stupid book. Grrr. I will finish it.

"They're sharing a drink they call loneliness/but it's better than drinking alone." Sorry, had to throw that in there.

I'm beginning to feel slightly mopey again. But I'm lacking the energy to go into that right now. Youch. I thought there was a little bit more orange juice for my vodka than there really was. Oh well. I think I'm going to go do my best to write some drunk Christmas cards.

"The hint of these new tears are sharp/I try to choke them back." Yeah.

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