Oh Lonely Me

One more day until I get a day off. A day when I don't have to worry about stocking cellphone accessories, or offering credit cards, or otherwise tolerating imbeciles on both sides of the counters. You, Lone Reader (or, rather, Nemo) have no idea how much I've been longing and looking forward to the day when I can go to sleep knowing I don't have to report to RS. When I can wear my stay-at-home bra (that only women that are, shall we say, more endowed, usually bother with) and slouch around in sweats with my hair looking horrible. Fuck it, I'm not even going to bother to go to the gym that day. Harry's so screwed me over in my schedule that I've had to work 8 days in a row.

Damn. End bitchy rant.

Got a relaxer for the first time in perhaps eons. I hate it so much, but it's like one of those necessary evils. My brothers have my mom's Indian hair while I've been gifted (cursed) with my fathers more...difficult, shall we say, locks. Jokes on them, they'll probably end up prematurely greying like mom too. My scalp's messed the hell up now. I would go natural, but that would mean a ton more combing and detangling than I engage in now.

Work was crazy. Everyone was stressed out and annoying to be around. Honestly, I don't know if it's because of the retail experience or because my co-workers are so young. The manager lets one of his workers basically slack off like nothing just because he's the number one seller. The other workers resent it but say nothing. If people are making a cellphone sale and run into technical problems they get terribly anal. So much crap went down during the 4 (4!) hours I was there that it felt like an eternity. Goddammit, I hate that fucking job with a passion.

Okay, seriously, I'm not going to start bitching and weeping.

My leg hasn't been acting up that much lately, which I'm grateful for seeing as the temperature has dropped substantially. Krishna's really feeling it. In one of those weird twists of fate, we both have had the same surgery done on ourselves, and we're both sporting the same hardware. Her accident happened about two years before my own. We still, to this day, don't know how she broke her leg. She just got loose from the yard (if I hadn't decided to dub her "Krishna" we would have called her Houdini, because that bitch could find a way to escape from everything and anything) and disappeared for three days (all of this occurred while I was up at school, freshman year). The folks say that she just ended up following the car into the driveway, with a limp. I guess she found her way home from wherever she was/was taken. Anyway, long digression. She can't stand going outside when its cold, and she limps around for a while until she warms up. She's such a cutie. My golden-haired baby. Not affectionate in the least, but eh. I feel for her the same way a parent with an autistic child feels, I suppose.

Hmm. Not much to say besides the same narcisstic drivel, I guess. I suppose I should insert another swear word just for no reason.

Fuck.

There.

Woe, woe

I've mislaid my Radiohead CDs. I feel this is a conspiracy. Not one, not two, but all three of the ones I have are AWOL. I feel empty.

I'm tired, but why aren't I sleeping? No idea. I feel like an infant fighting it for no reason.

"Just 'cause you feel it/doesn't mean it's so/there there..."
Thank you, Thom. I much rather when you whine about your creepishness and rail at androids that are taking over the earth than listen to you telling me to weigh my actions. Somehow optimism sounds wrong when accompanied by your slightly nasal voice.

I'd fall back on NIN or Tool, but there's a limit to how adolescent goth-y I'm going to allow myself to get tonight.