Day 371

Okay, so I wasn't a peach when I got home this evening but when I opened up my email to see that I only got two shifts this week at the shithole pub when NEW fucking people got three I got bleary-eyed with rage. To give you a hint at the level of rage I was at a few hours ago before this last round: I showed up to work to find new people EVERYWHERE all looking around like they didn't know what to do with themselves. I marched right up to the ditzy blonde who was flirting with everything male and said, "What exactly is going on here?!" She looked at me like I was a crack addict. So, I said, "Look, it's me and you and I just want you to know that if we are going to do every other table that means we do every other table because if we don't I am going to get cunty, okay?"

Okay, so I felt kind of bad for a little while for snapping at her. Then, I misinterpreted what another server said to me and I replied, "Are you being bitchy with me?!" And, I must have said it belligerently enough for a customer to meekly turn around and say, "He wasn't being bitchy with you." Then, I felt bad for that.

Later I apologized to the co-worker I accused of being bitchy and he said not to be sorry and for a moment I liked him for more than just his sexy thighs. Things didn't go so well with the ditz and I stopped feeling bad for bitching at her right after I saw her give her number (on her first night of work have you) to the dopiest looking fool in the bar. I think I am going to start calling her Chlamydia.

Most of the rest of my day was spent eating things and trying to write and watching the episodes of The Golden Girls that I have seen 10,000 times. The only interesting bits were when I went into the Creative Writing Department and once again realized that writers--even department heads--don't know shit about addition. It took me and the grad advisor nearly an hour to figure out that I was registered in 30 credits for the upcoming year and that, as a minimum, I only need to be in 18 credits.

At supper this evening I found out that my "homeboy"--a new resident who lived four blocks from me for 3 years--is the culmination of every nerd in every movie that ever had a nerd in it. In short, he's perfect. He nearly started salivating during our infamous dinner conversation about who in the residence would be what race of people from Lord of the Rings. Then he even went on a rant about ancient societies and how LOTR is similar to them making sure to include dates and history lessons and details about how he thinks that the races in the series are very similar to Indian caste systems modes of existence. I want to put the little yapper on a keychain and never let him out of my sight.

Okay, well I better go to bed and pray that I get my period so I don't find out that I am just an angry bitch. At least I remembered to write in my blog.

Why the frak nugget does spellchecker not think "cunty" is a word?

Tip of the Day: Drinking tons of Monster energy drink doesn't help anyone but sometimes it's worth a shot.

-Canadian Castaway