Guess who hates everything? Is it me? Pretty alarm clock, though.
Yesterday my phone rang 499449493 times with concerned friends and family calling to see if I am okay (Answer: No.) (Who'd be okay, really? "Oh! Just got laid off AGAIN, for the second time in a year. I'm GREAT!") and by evening I was ready to jump up and down on the phone with baseball cleats. Because as you can imagine I own a fine selection of baseball cleats.
I know I should be glad I have, you know, friends, but I just wanted to be alone, and if the phone was gonna ring I wanted it to be an offer of employment. Not another call with questions I couldn't answer. Why do people ask you things you couldn't possibly answer. "Why you?" I have no idea. "Why do we have daylight savings time?" See above re no idea. And the first yahoo to comment about farmers and take this Q seriously gets slapped with my unemployed liver.
I also did one hour of editing work for Faithful Reader Joann, who was nice enough to throw me a bone, and I considered doing my statistics freelance work, but really I was very busy lying on the couch staring at nothing.
A friend called and asked me to go to dinner, but (a) who can afford it and that reminds me. I guess Ima actually have to buy groceries. What do you buy when you want to save money? Because you know what I buy at the grocery store? Cat food and coffee.
Today my old coworkers from that job I had, you know, way back on Tuesday are taking me to lunch. We're getting Thai and for that I say yay. The Poet, Vilhem Oyster and the woman who sent us all an email about what a margarita does to your body when we were all invited by the Spanish team to go out for margaritas are all coming. You know I like her, even though that's how I always describe her.
That woman has a license plate that reads Bike&Run. I always told her I was gonna get one that read Sit&Eat and park right next to her.
Marvin mentioned if worse came to worse, we could always switch, and I could get a small apartment and he could move in here and pay the mortgage. I had never thought of that idea; his current lease is up next month. But that would mean the dogs'd live here and I wouldn't. Which, you know, kill me now.
Oh! The gay guy who found the old black dog has grown a beard. He just walked by. I haven't seen him walk by in months. The beard looks good. He looked too young without it. See? There are advantages to being here all day. You catch up on the news.
I guess I will shower, and maybe I'll be like one of those retired people who show up everywhere an hour early. By the time everyone else shows up for lunch I will have digested and passed my Thai.
Sigh.
P.S. I keep forgetting to mention that when I had my fortune told a few months back, she said, "I see you in a new job" and I said no, no. I just GOT a new job. Then a few minutes later she said, "No, I really see a new job." So there you go. FORTUNE TELLERS ARE REAL.
