Thirty pieces of silver

Mik and Cope are asleep on the loveseat. They look so harmless in the TV light. I'm watching a National Geographic special on the Gospel of Judas. Mik lasted about half an hour. She had a busy day-watching movies and playing with the dog. While I was out busting my balls to earn a few dollars to keep the lights on.
I'm kidding.
She was here less than 24 hours and had a job. How long she'll keep it is debatable by everyone that cares-because most people are not made for serving and it's not an insult to say that I wonder. Most people are not willing to put up with the huge stinking piles of shit that go with serving. I wonder how in the hell I do it. The job sucks-then you count yr money. If yr lucky, it sucks a lot less then. I take a strange pleasure in the pissy attitudes, the anger and the frustration, the screaming, the physically noticable raising of blood pressure. Maybe I'm a freak...or Maybe...maybe it's the benjamins...hell, if I worked full time, I'd be financially sorta not in dire straits. But I don't plan to do that until I officially am asked to leave the folklore field. Or I get a degree...ha ha ha! That's hiLARious!
We haven't had any major issues. Other than she wants to smoke in my house. Gentle reader-you've BEEN in my apartment-it is not smoker friendly. It is small, and carpeted and has crappy air flow. All good reasons to not encourage smoking. Nothing really ENCOURAGES smoking-cept maybe an evening at the Bluegrass. But she said if she's paying half the bills she should be able to smoke-but we made a compromise. She pays less than half the bills (not on the interweb thingy) and she smokes on the porch. So we're happy. The smoking makes me sad-because I WANT to smoke. SO much. I really LIKE it. And I'm SO GOOD at it. But I shouldn't. Tho I do socially, and when I'm drunk. But not regularly. Not daily. Not even weekly I don't think. Once in awhile is all. And not inside-because I wouldn't want my beautiful quality furniture and decor compromised.
SO-other than I am not used to having another person around me I think we get along well. I am very unused to company. I'm a solitary (wo)man. Me, Neil Diamond and Johnny Cash. We're all very solitary. And cool in our ways. I do have to work at being glad that I have someone around instead of wondering why there's someone else here. I've never had a roommate. Even when I lived at home I lived alone. I think I covered this back before AFS. Me myself and I that's what I know and I am unused to sharing my pleasant little world with someone all the time. I don't dislike it-but I feel on guard quite a bit. Because there are things that I am used to doing (for example-watching the Nanny multiple times a day-well, not watching, but letting Fran Drescher grace my TV screen) but since someone else lives here I have to share the TV and that means less bad sitcoms. Not much less-but less---and WAY more reality MTV/VH1 programs. This is not all bad. Weird. Because I feel dirty watching those shows but hey-such is life.
Let me interject into the narrative and say that the two beasts on the loveseat are some of the most relaxed creatures currently residing on the planet. All sprawled out and comfy...I must send them to bed-so I get my dog back. Coupland loves mostly the living room and hates mostly, the bedroom. Because Baxter haunts the bedroom. Cope went into the bedroom last night and got on the bed then hopped off and came back in here. Baxter was protecting his room. That's my guess. I miss Baxter. I love Coupland-but I wish Baxter was still here. Probably, that's just how it'll be for awhile.
What sort of adventures have I been having?
None much. Working. Working. Suffering from brain death from the comps. I can't believe I took the exam-felt ok about it and then by the time I was home I felt like I might as well have never bothered studying or anything. Hell, I coulda gone into the exam and written the lyrics to "Last Train to Clarksville" and done better. But I came thru in one piece. Essentially. I just hope I'm not the only person that has to re-take the test. I don't want to be the only one with a diploma that doesn't have a sheepskin but instead has a note that says "see me." I STILL haven't done any work for school. I'm scheduled to present at the conference mem. weekend at 8:30am. That's earlier than any human wants to be up and discussing country music. At least I'll be playing to a small room. Small crowds tend to offer pity.
That's what I have to say.
Other than, when I went into work yesterday I saw that I wasn't on for Sunday. I was upset-because I NEED my Sunday. That's close to a buck right there, and I can't be lettin' that go. So, I'm all frettin' "Why can't I work Easter? I need that shift." Then I realize, the restaurant isn't open. So, like that prep cook said, "Don't nobody get their Sunday next week, we get a day off. Of all things." Hmmm...well...then, and I gotta work Wednesday night. Sucky. But Easter is good-cuz you have the Rescurection and chocolate eggs. Festive.
OK-that's good tho, cuz I get to see the young Mr. Scruggs on Thurs night without having to get up for work the next day. That's groovy. And on Sunday I get to revert to my self pitying ways---because Lent is over! Yippee!!!!