Things Are Different Today

That answer I’ve been waiting for re: long term employment came today.

Okay, really, just a really subtle hint-like a cricket bat to the head is subtle-came.

But I’d rather take a hint than wait around and take a hit sometime down the road.

It would seem, and I think everyone will be shocked to hear this, that I don’t have the kind of attitude that’s expected from public servants. My hatred of people is hard to disguise, I suppose. They’re just so easy to hate. Not hating people seems like an awful lot of effort for very little pay-off. There’s also my little habit of calling people on their lies. The public lies A LOT. So I spend a lot of time pointing out that I’m not as stupid as they are and can tell when someone’s lying to me. My rule: if they’re doing anything but asking for a computer pass or the key to the toilet, there’s a lie in there somewhere. No idea what it is that makes every single person that walks into that place so determined to twist the simplest thing, but it happens. It happens all the time.
I really, truly, and vocally hate people.

What’s to like about 99.999999% of humanity?

Really, I’m curious. Convince me.

So, yeah. Unless everyone else turns down the job, I have no future in the library. And I feel-surprisingly fine. I could be happier, I’d be happier with a job for the foreseeable future. But you can’t always get what you want. Except, here’s the thing, I stopped wanting the job sometime last week. I was (and am) still willing to take it. But I don’t want it. Not like I did. I want the job because I want security, but if I have any say over my future (and if I don’t, who does?) I don’t want my life to be that. It’s deadly dull. And I cringe every time the phone rings or someone comes into the building and walks toward the desk. I hate these people. Why would I want to serve them for years to come? They’re idiots and want nothing more than to bring me down to their particular and fantastic level of stupidity and worthlessness.

We all realize that this statement has somehow managed to adjust karma so that everything I’ve said will one way or another work against me. Right? It will. One way or another. Should’ve known as soon as I brought Wilson into my life things would start to go ass over tits. I’d promised myself no debt, and what am I but in debt. Wilson’s my iPod. Yes, I named my iPod and not just that but I named it Wilson. Mock away. Stephen and/or Colbert sounded wrong for an electronic device. House sounded like I had an item/description disconnect problem. And while I remember briefly considering naming Coupland Hugh-this was pre-obsession FYI, I just like the name-I don’t think the name fits anything but a tall, self-effacing Brit. I’m babbling.

Let me re-state my theory: I’m going to find myself in some hard to handle position in short order. Either I’m going to be unemployed or I’m going to have the offer of employment at a job that would make me miserable. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow-etc
So I’m here tonight, a bottle of Maker’s Mark and a bag of shortbread cookies away from a trip to the IGA for cigarettes and my “Music to Slit Your Wrists By” Playlist. Working on a comfortable numbness that I felt before I started drinking.

It doesn’t matter that I’m a whipping girl. They can replace me anytime they want. But I’m good at my job, that time won’t come until they hire a permanent person.
That could be months or weeks or maybe I’m not going to worry about it. Don’t worry, about a thing….Every little thing, is gonna be alright…I could drop acid at the front desk and still pull off the necessary tasks to do this job. Since acid is hard to find (and I’ve never actually done it, so my first trip probably shouldn’t be at work-it’s like, the one big name drug I’ve never tried) I don’t think that’s a real concern. As long as I get paid I can be viewed as lowly as anyone wants to view me. I’m getting paid, and now that I don’t have to worry about making a good impression and staying in good graces I can do whatever the HELL I want.

A very wise man once said “Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.”

Another wise man once said “Be careful what you say to someone with nothin’, it’s almost like having it all.”

That about sums it up.

Even Jesus hates you

Y'all saw the response to my Dumbass baiting on the BRboard-yes? If not, it's here:bottom of the page.
I've been meaning to address this since it was posted. It is ironic, I think, that this response (which took about 2 days to be crafted, so I can only assume the writer went out and bought a thesaurus-or found someone to write it for him because none of his other posts contain any words above one syllable) actually only attacks the one part of who I am that I know is my strength. He's done it twice, too, that's the rub. Two statements that I'm a "pseudo-intellectual." The added statement that I have "Limited verbosity" is a nice touch. As for the rest, never claimed any torture did I? No. Boredom, miserable bastardness, loneliness, back when I was in school frustration and anger and confusion as to why I was bothering. But never claimed tortured artist status. I'm not, after all. If anything I would call myself a generational cliche-but only because of all those Douglas Coupland novels and early-mid 90s movies featuring people whose lives are mostly like mine. If those things didn't exist I'd just be an almost thirty single person living in a medium sized city in the middle of the country.
As for the attention seeking-of course I seek attention. Good lord, it's the Internet. It's a bloody message board. If someone's on either or both of these things not seeking attention they're missing half the fun.
And the fact that NO ONE said anything in support of the asshole but EVERYONE (including someone with whom I've had no previous contact) continued acting towards me in the exact same manner (or offered to "fuck with" him) indicates that I just said what other people were thinking.

OK-nuff on that.
I've spent the whole day sprawled on the couch (now my bed) watching TV. Oh Judge Judy, how I missed your fair and just rulings! No running errands. No doinglaundry or dishes or cleaning the bathroom or any of that shit. I did nothing-intentionally. My brain doesn't tip as close to complete apeshitness as it did earlier this week because I'm getting enough rest and relaxation.
Tonight, I'm going to watch Doctor Who and Degrassi. And I've got the DVR set to record Stephen Fry on Craig Ferguson. Two of the coolest dudes going, I've been recording Craig a lot lately-he's on a bit late for me. I watch all my late night TV at 8 in the morning.
Yesterday, was the long and dull day at work. I really hate Thursdays, but I am glad I don't work at a branch that's open til 8 every night. I don't think I could take it.
Tomorrow, work and maybe a swing past Tower to see if they've lowered the prices enough to make buying anything worthwhile. Doubt it.
Sunday I might actually do something. But I might not.
I'm my own woman, I answer to no one.
So there, ha.
Great news on the sister, too. Don't want to write it out here-those actors are suspicious types. But it's very good.

I don't want to push it until it breaks

"You take care of yourself. You eat right, you excercise. You work full time. You take care of your dog."
"A lot that matters."
The question is, of course, what do I expect? A parade?
So, I do what seems right. Big party for me any day now. Punch and pie for everyone.
Am I not the person that has stated repeatedly and with pride that whatever might be wrong with me I pay my bills, fix my meals and take care of myself. It's not like I'm hurting anyone but myself. Hell, except for here, is there a single place where that information would be available?
...
"So, I'm really fucked up right now."
"Any idea why?"
"Because I'm weak and I suck. That would be my guess."
....
"Trust no one. Everyone I care about I end up hurting, or hurting me. I can't deal with that. So I stay away from people. It's easier to be alone than to risk that kind of hurt. That's why I don't have friends."
"You have a friend."
"For now."
....
When I stopped at Kroger for milk and bread-I locked my keys in my truck. It took me until the door was shut before I realized what I'd done. So I had to call AAA.
The AAA guy pulled up. I wsas standing by the truck, feeling basically awful. Probably looking the same.
AAA guy got out of his truck and took out his tools and a bottle of water.
"This is for you," he said, handing me the water. Something about that seemed like the nicest thing anyone could do for me right then.
Odd what seems important.
It took him seconds. Maybe less than that to pop the lock.
...
I was sitting in the Nashville B-dubs losing at trivia. I usually win at trivia-I started late. Actually, I answered all the questions right. But someone (Dave) had 4 questions and answers on me. I couldn't catch up. Stupid Dave.
"Everybody's dead Dave."
"What, Polsky?"
"He's dead, Dave."
"Jones-y?"
"Dead, Dave. Everybody is dead, Dave."
"Not Kochanski."
"She's dead, Dave. They'll all dead, Dave. Everybody is dead, Dave."
That's really only funny if you're a specific kind of nerd.
Not the kind that is looking forward to a Thanksgiving day viewing of My Best Friend is a Vampire.
The latter is awesome on a lot of levels. That's the best vampire movie in the land. The former--I didn't mention what was the former. Did I? The former probably mocks the awesomehood of Robert Sean Leonard's early career. That is so not awesome.
"I hate working on Tuesday, because I miss House."
"You have a TV, turn it to Fox and watch the ep."
"That friend of his is something, isn't he?"
"An awful person needs a really decent person as a friend. It makes him sane."
"I think he's awful. But I love the show."
---
I've got 2 new pairs of glasses. I'm going to have to wear them out in public in case the wrong script is what's been causing my headaches. I haven't worn glasses to work since I've been where I am. But, if it takes away the headaches...Looking adorkable (at best) is worth it.

...

"Have you ever been in love?"
"Yes."
"How did you meet?"
"She shot me."
Huzzah for changing history. Last year they met at a party.
He didn't ask the second question because he has been in love another time. With Wilson...They so pwn each other...seriously only blind people would miss it.
...
Time is a relative concept.

Cross your fingers behind your back, squeeze mine until they crack

Another banner day of good times here in the Eastside.
Actually, I spent most of the day on the Northside.
Back in another lifetime I used to drink underage at a bar called the Northside. We used to do kamikaze shots in honor of the dive punk bar that formerly resided on that spot. The first bar I ever snuck into was that very bar-Cavanaugh's if memory serves. In my mind it was as awesome as CBGBs. What do you want from me-I was 16 and within easy reach of beer and smokes and real live adult people at an 18 and over bar. Ahhh, youth...why did I have to spend the bulk of it in a psychotic haze?
But I did, didn't I? No use crying over attempted overdoses, now is it?
Today someone bumped into my co-worker's car. This bump caused no damage whatsoever-as far as I could see-but it was contact between vehicles and that's not good. K. made a big fuss over it and the dingbat that did the damage said she wasn't sure if her car was insured since her husband had just bought it. Uhhhh...ummmm....right...clearly we are dealing with a rocket scientist on holiday. Lord.
I was in a pissy mood. Like I'm ever in another kind of mood-honestly. I'm unpleasant. I'm thinking of having a shirt made with that written across the chest. I'll wear it when I go to the Wash so maybe the men that seem to line up to mack on me will get a clue without me having to travel the entirity of the restaurant food an drink in hand whilst attempting to get away from the advances.
But really, what a sucky day. The weather went from gorgeous to terrible overnight. The dog refused to do his business so I was stuck walking up and down the street imploring him to do his sinful dirty business.
Moment of humor:
Mum had a dream that went like this:
"Your dad and I were in a garage and he was working on the car when Jon and Stephen showed up. I was so excited. I told them that you would be so jealous that you weren't there. Stephen said, "Oh, yeah, I know her, she's a member of the Colbert Nation. Tell her I said 'hi.'"
"Why were they there?"
"I don't know."
"You didn't ask?"
"It was a dream, what do you want from me?"

So that was fun.

Today tho, not fun. For some reason I found myself crying while thinking about "Don't Go Back to Rockville." Not listening to it mind you, thinking about it. I mean, I'm down with hormones and stuff but that's just weird. And I'm pissed because I keep trying to pick a fight with that childish dick on the board and he doesn't check the internets often enough for a proper wank. If you're wondering-I'm kind of hoping to get him to leave. I drove him into hiding once before--how hard should it be to do it again? I mean really, Blob Dylan? I bet he calls Ellen Degeneres "Ellen Degenerate" too. What a tool.
Work is boring. Not in a bad way. As if that makes sense-there's good boring and bad boring? I guess I'm saying that. Just go with the flow. I'm not saying I dislike it-although K.'s level of bad mood doesn't help me get through my mood swings since I can't help but feed off the feelings around me. And I'm just a miserable cunt when I'm like this. Just wicked-kicking people out of the building because I bloody well feel like it, shutting off their computers just to be spiteful, yelling and drawing attention to anyone that is acting in a manner I find annoying, ignoring people when they speak to me, refusing to help stupid old ladies book their sodding flights to Fort fucking Lauderdale for Thanksgiving weekend. None of that even makes me happy, and usually being a bitch brings me joy. But I can do it and get away with it-so I push the envelope.
I'm really not someone I'd want to be around. I'd avoid me if I could.
I've convinced myself I'm going to be unemployed again my the Pagan Tree Ritual holiday. Reasons not worth typing out-that would make them real-but I do think it's worth saying that the fact that I'm an ass has nothing to do with it. That's a symptom, not the disease.
Today I bought this big giant Sims collection. I don't even know why-I just did. Now I own it and I'm going to have to play it. I played with it for close to three hours and managed to ruin the lives of an entire family. The man was on the verge of losing his job and was forced to clean up after the rest of the family, the son was flunking out of school, the woman was throwing parties where she'd invite the whole town and hit on all the guests and the daughter has no social skills, eats constantly and dresses like a refugee from Little House on the Prairie. If I ever read the rules I fear for what would happen to Sim City.
That's where I'm at. There was some very loud noises coming from next door, but I just assumed it was robbers and since I don't want to get robbed or killed or whatever I just let them have their fun.
Gee, why do I spend so much time alone?
I just do not know. I am charming, surely people crave company from people like me.

Give me temptation.

I wanna go home.
I'm bored.
Work is not exciting.
I need a vacation from me.
Everything is horrible
Really really really terrible
I'm really depressed
I'm really downtrodden
I'm downtrodden squared.

I was just listening to Clay Aiken. And it made me happier than I've been most of the day.
There has to be something to break this ridiculous onslaught of Horseshoe Lake-itis.
I've been hanging out in the random and seemingly purposeless rambling section of the House forum on Television Without Pity because it's all the benefit of friendship without the effort of actually meeting new people. They're just there, waiting to hear about what I had for dinner last night.

Soy un perdidor.

Crap, only 15 minutes of lunch left before I have to go back out front.
This day will never end.
GAH.

There's colors on the street, red white and blue

Oh man. The elections are upon us. I've got Jon Stewart on the live Midterm Midtacular.
Of course the talk on the tip of every tongue is that Wilson lied to protect House. Because he loves him. I'm telling you people (all, like, what-2 of you? and a grand total of zero that care) Wilson is coming out of that closet he's been residing in through 3 marriages. Mark my words.

Ha ha Katherine Harris boob joke. Hi-LAR-ious. Rick Santorum...drumroll please...Rick Santorum has been raptured...no DEFEATED!!! Yea!!!

Does anyone have any idea about the election in TN? I'm pretty sure everything I've voted for has been defeated. Because my belief system is diametrically opposed to everything held dear in this part of the country. G-d, it's hard to be a tree huggin' porn watchin' pot smokin' lazy ass hippie in the American South. Our Gov. is a Dem anyway. And the queers won't be allowed to soil the sacred heterosexual practice of marriage. Godfearin' Christians like Sara Evans are doing a good enough job of that.
Have I mentioned lately how much I dislike that santimonious bitch?
I really dislike that santimonious bitch.

My landlady pisses me off. Did I mention that? I talked to her yesterday for 10 seconds. She wanted to cut up my rosemary bush (that "funny looking eyesore thing") and plant some stupid ugly yellow flowers. I'm not a big fan of flowers. They offer nothing to the world. Mum says I should lighten up (she says that a lot-see later anecdote) that she's just a crazy old lady. I don't deny that-she is (like humans are, usually) mostly harmless. This does't stop me from being pissed off for days every time I talk to her. Jesus, she's annoying. I would do a dance of glee the day I move out of this apartment. I dream of the day that I am able to move to a place where I can sit on my back porch and drink a beer and listen to the Stones and not have to worry about someone seeing me with a drink and judging my morality. I like beer, I like rock'n'roll and I would LOVE being able to live my life without my neighbors interfering with my pastimes.

The youth of this fair city were out of school the last three days. I was ready to kill those little twerps by the end of the day today. This one kid, let's call him Kenny, because he was wearing an orange coat with the hood pulled over his head and tied under his chin, he was at my place of employ from the time we opened yesterday until we closed and turned up as soon as we unlocked the doors this morning.
I was forced to unleash my inner Sister Mary Catherine on those rotters. This one guy, an adult-well, 19 anyway--was being loud as fuck. I told him nicely to be quiet. He continued to be an idiot. So I resorted to shushing. When that didn't work I stomped across the library, stood 6 feet away from him-hand on hips, legs shoulder width apart and said "Alright, we're going to learn to use our inside voices or we're going to leave."
"You might want to find some tone that sounds less like a ruler weilding nun when you're dealing with the public."
"They don't listen to me. I have to be a bitch."
"Not too surprising the white chick doesn't put any fear in them."
The other instance wherein I tried to bring the smackdown on the kiddies...
These brothers and their friends, spend all their days in the library playing computer games. They gather 3 or 4 to a computer and yell across the room at each other. They're jackasses. They're also probably crack babies, so I give them some slack. Not a lot, bit the eenciest bit since they aren't entirely at fault for their idiocy. If nothing else the fact that their mother gave 3 of the 4 of them rhyming names makes them deserving of some pity. Why do parents think it's cute to give children corresponding names?

ANYWAY-these kids piss me off. And today they had reached the boredom threshold and I was high as a kite on DayQuil. We were all in rare form.
I was alone at the desk. It was 5 minutes since the 'inside voices' comment. The lights were melting. The brats were laughing about some picture of a scantily clad lady. There were 4 boys to one computer.
"OK. I've been nice and I've been not as nice. Now I'm just going to be blunt-either three of you get up and go find a book to read and start acting like people are supposed to act in a library or I'm cutting off the computers and you won't be able to get on the rest of the day."
Add a wagging finger to the hands on hips, Peter Pan pose and you have the image for this scene.
It was at this moment the head of the district emerged from the office. "If you would give me a pen and paper so I can take these young men's names please." She's a large woman, not fat, tall and deep voiced. Imposing. I got her that pen and paper.
She took the names of the young men and explained that she was the head of this library and all libraries in this area and would they like to explain their behavior to her since they seemed to be unable to explain it to me.
I went to lunch around that time.
During lunch I watched a BlackAdder DVD since someone had dropped it in the book drop yesterday and I've only seen that series twice. Well, thrice, now. The walls solidified again, so I took more NyQuil.

The DEMS have taken the House!
What about Ford/Corker? Please tell me Ford took the race. I'm doubting it.

"I hestitate to ask this, Stephen, what's happening in the South tonight?"
"Jon, I think we both know how that swings."
"To the right."
"Well, it is Bush country."
"Touche."

FTW

Dude, Jon got away with saying 'shit' tonight and Stephen just said we should 'give the country back to the goddamn Indians' I love live TV. That has got to be the least politically correct thing uttered last night. And Damn! It was edited out this morning.

This is your loyal reporter, signing off from her post in the Colbert Nation.

Let's get these bastards!
Let's go get 'em!

Good night America.

Peaceful as a hurricane eye

I slept until noon today! And the dog let me! How cool is that? It was just like the halcyon days before I got employed.
I've spent most of the day on the phone. Pretty much talked to everyone with whom I am in contact today. Dear Verizon, thank you for In-Calling and unlimited nights and weekends.
Everything about Sundays are awfully lonely, I think. They're the loneliest day, but it's not Friday night lonely. It's a totally different brand of alone, is Sunday. It's nostalgic and filled with ghosts, Sunday is. Other days are just empty, sitting in silent near darkness trying not to think but Sunday is more about what was than what is. It's my favorite day. The way I prefer an honest ending over a happy one, I prefer an honest day rather than one that feels like it's trying too hard.
Saturdays try too hard. Yesterday was the branch head's retirement party. It was very nice. I nearly adopted a puppy (I still worry the fact that I didn't was the wrong decision-tho Coupland thinks that life is good when he's the only dog. He just doesn't know the fun of being the little head dog. When I get a house of my own, I'm going to get another dog. I will name him Stephen. My dogs are all so intellectual.)
Baxter came to me in a dream last night. I know, you probably think I dreamt Baxter, but I could touch him, smell him. Just like when he was here. If it was a dream it was a very real one. I don't know why he was there, he just was. I know anyone that knows me wouldn't debate that I love Coupland, he's my sweet baby. Still, I miss Baxter. It doesn't seem at all fair that he didn't last long enough to live a somewhat settled and secure life. Lived and died wherever he could find a place to lie down.
"I'll only be here until August anyway. I'll never have a home."
"Seriously, girl, if I can settle down-and I was all kinds of a gypsy for years...Well, not really gypsy, more like itinerant farm worker, but six of one you know...If I can settle down, you can sometime, too. Maybe not where you are. Maybe in Austin or somewhere exotic like Des Moines, Iowa or St. Cloud, Minnesota."
"St. Cloud..."
"I hear it's lovely this time of year."
"There's probably snow."
"And that's a selling point."
"I like snow."
I don't. That's why I moved South. That and...fuck if I know what brought me here. My guess would be music.
Rock'n'roll music was the only thing I ever gave a damn about. After all.
You can learn a lot about someone by what they TiFaux.
"I've got SVU, Daily Show, Colbert, House, General Hospital, Breaking Bonaduce, Dr. Who, House, General Hospital, Colbert, House..."
"Dude, I should totally DVR House."
"Duh, yeah. Did you see this week's episode?"
"No."
"David Morse is on, and he's so awesome, of course. See, House thought Wilson was dating this nurse and his leg was hurting worse. Because the ketamine wore off and he's back on the pills and all. So he's really pissed about his leg and Wilson and he goes to the clinic and David Morse is like 'I waited two hours.' And House just brushes him off, like there's nothing wrong with you, get out of my face."
"Sure."
"But David Morse pushes and wants an exam. So, House decides to employ a rectal thermometer-in the traditional manner."
"Damn."
"It gets worse. He left it there, and just left the clinic."
"What a dick."
"I know, usually I think he's a dick just the right amount but that was overboard. So, the episode goes on and we see that Wilson is living in a hotel. And that is just depressing. And Cuddy isn't pregnant. Then, House is riding his bike down this street and he gets pulled over by David Morse. And House is a jerk, so David Morse starts searching him and reaches into his jacket and a bunch of Vicodin fall out. Cuz he doesn't have them in a bottle or anything."
"Of course not."
"So, he's like, 'Put your hands behind your head.' There's going to be, like, a whole bunch of hell to pay. Oh, and Wilson isn't dating anyone. Foreman is dating the nurse. Now you're caught up."
"Oh wow. That was good, I can see it."
"You totally have to start watching House, it's November sweeps. You're Tivo, though, What do you have?"
"Well, I recorded Meet the Press today because it's on at 10:30-which is WAY too early in my world."
"Meet the Press? I feel so low brow."
"We've also got South Park, Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert and Family Guy. The low brow way outweighs the highbrow with us too."
"So the vegan likes cartoons, I see."
That's a good sign.

"She's bi-polar and refuses to take her medication."
"Hey! Nothin' wrong with that."
"She can be either very lovable or awful."
"Again, what's the problem?...Guess I shouldn't be so glib?"
"I don't know."
"I've earned it, I think."
"I suppose."

"I have a theory, Mum. I think my iTunes is sentient."
"Why?"
"The other day, when I was talking to you it kept playing Harry Chapin. Then the other day when I was cleaning house it kept playing jazz and Broadway musicals. And I only have, like, 150-200 jazz and Broadway musical songs out of over 3000."
"I am so ashamed of you."
"You think I should get more?"
"What do you think?"
"It's not like the jazz is that shit you find left of the dial. It's Duke Ellington and Benny Goodman. Real jazz. Swinging stuff. And I don't try to explain the musicals. They make me happy."
"That's small comfort."

I wish that you could meet my girlfriend, my girlfriend who lives in Canada*

Everything you're not is exactly who I want you to be.
Not a very positive statement, is it?
Maybe I'll write some angsty piece of angstness from angstburg about it. Or decide that I'm just feeling bitter today.

How I spent my day off:

7am-woke up. Stayed in bed until
7:30-when Mr. Dog decided to stand on my chest and bark at me
8am-walk 1 mile around the block
8:20-return from walk pour cup of coffee
8:45-realized that I've seen that ep of General Hospital already. Begin cleaning kitchen
8:46-2:30pm-cleaning and not enjoying it at all.
3-3:30-Judge Judy break
3:30-4:15-went Krogering
4:30-5:00-took the hound to the dog park
--he was stalked by a beast with a purple collar. Coupland held his own and showed that he was a tough SOB by folding back his ears and barking with his most badassssss dog voice
--a Dachsie tried to play with Cope, but he (that is, my he) was too busy being hardcore to play with someone his own size. My dog is so rude. He needs to realize his position in life.
5:10-returned from the store with 2 beers (not 40s, I'm not mad) and made dinner
6-now--fuck all

Well, that's it. Off to watch the video for "Walking on Broken Glass" on YouTube. It's been awhile since I've enjoyed the wonder of Hugh Laurie in make-up. Awhile being approx. 6 days.

*entry title courtesy of Avenue Q original Broadway cast recording

Wouldn't seem like a heaven to me

You know what this blog has been lacking? Rants. Fucking angry, pissed off, violent, raging against the motherfucking machine rants. And do you know why? Because I've been so goddam good. Saving my money, staying in, not doing anything wild or interesting. Just being so careful. Paying off all my bills. Much too dull for rants.
And then-
Oh yes, m'dears, and THEN! I turn around today-oh happy day!-and my bank credit card has a 13 cent finance charge on it. Jigga-waaahh? 13 cents? I haven't used that card since July. I'm even more confused, maybe I have a 13 cent credit? That makes as much sense as my apparent decision to go out and buy two Red Hot Fireballs and put them on my freakin' Mastercard. Furthersoddingmore, when was my credit line raised from $2000 to $6000? Why didn't anyone tell me? WTF is that 13 cent charge or credit or whateverthehell it is? I didn't even make $6000 last year-that seems like an excessive line of credit.
OH! And lest I forget Dish Network is being a bastard and pissing me off. It would seem, and I don't pay attention to this shit because if I think about it too much I'll probably start cancelling all of my amenities until I'm living in a van down by the river as penance for my inability to keep track of my bills, that last month Dish didn't bill me. So this month I have a $120 bill. That's 2 months of service that I'm just supposed to have the money laying around to pay?
OK, yes, I do. I am in no financial straits. I work, I bring home a predictable check. I don't spend my money on much. There's not much I want or need. As long as I have TV and Internet and a non-stop stream of music then I'm happy. Everything else (things that contribute to outward appearances for example) can be covered with what little is left over. I like nice things, I would rather scrimp until I can have a nice thing (or even better-deal and connive until I get a good deal for a nice thing) but I just want to know
WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH THE MAGICAL MYSTERY BILLS?
This can't happen to everyone. The world would be populated by insane people mumbling to themselves that the Kaiser has stolen their string. The only reason I'm sane is that I expect to get fucked over. That's the way life is. Life sucks, but it's the only chance we get. If you're a miserable person then that's it, you're a miserable person. You don't get another chance. There probably isn't an eternity to spend enjoying all the stuff that you ignored in your quest to hate people while on the planet. If there is anything it's probably a continuation of this life. So, I expect to get screwed and when it happens I'm not surprised. To not have something like this happen on a monthly basis would be far more surprising. That would alter my entire perception of reality.
So, I can take that every 4-6 weeks (usually when I'm PMS-ing because G-d has a twisted sense of humor) I'll have a day like today when I get strange and unexplained bills in the mail. Then, I get to be all rant-y and rave-y and wish I had a cigarette to calm my nerves. Or drugs, or, and this is just something I've read about in books and seen in movies, a healthy outlet for my frustrations that managed to give me faith that every little thing is gonna be alright.
Don't worry about a thing
Every little thing
Is gonna be alright
Don't worry
About a thing...