An entry, to make up for my lack of entries.

First, the entries I wrote at work during the past week.

"I am so deliriously bord. I have to keep one part of my anatomy moving at all times to kepe myself from exploding. I twitch, I fidget, I shake my leg, I scratch my head, I run my fingernails along my skin, every movement compulsive, I'm hardly conscious, I'm So Bored.

I'm reading Wuthering Heights, a book I borrowed off my father five years ago. When I asked him if I could read it, he said, "What's mine is yours." I don't know that I asked him for anything else for the rest of that year.

I hate my job. I don't know if this is unresolved rage stemming from the fact that, until very recently, I did not have muc hof a choice in my place of employment, due to the fact that without a degree or connections of some sort, I am not terribly marketable, and I did not have much of a choice in the quantity of work, as my manager makes the schedule and gives himself the preferred schedule (five 8-hour days) and leaves me with the shitty four-hour work stints and an even shittier 8-hour shift on Sundays, when I average one customer every two hours.

But now, I may have a choice. I have a second interview tomorrow at the PR place with the owner of the company. Come tomorrow or Tuesday, I may be explaining to my manager exactly why I can no longer work for the company (the sugar-coated version). It's my manager who decided not to hire someone new to replace the girl who quit wihtout giving notice. It's the company who refuses to give me a legally-required half-hour lunch break, making it difficult to care much about what I'm doing. It's the location that gives me absolutely nothing to do but sit and thinkg about how musthI wihs I weren't here for hours at a time.

It's probably just the prospect of knowing that I won't have to do this for very much longer that's making it so unbearable to do it now. I had no idea how pissed off I was about this until I let myself think about it.

Aaron and I see each other for fifteen minutes a day. As as soon as I get off work, he leaves for work. By the time he's off, I'm dead asleep. When I leave for work in the morning, he's dead asleep. This is remarkably frustrating. I'm terribly lonely, and there's not much I can do about it at this point.

I hate living my life at the mercy of society."

and

"If there's one thing I love, it's cleaning out my purse. You never know what you're gonna find! Like an Old Navy credit card with a $600 limit! A Victoria's Secret card I thought I had cancelled! Ditto a Best Buy card! A coupon for free Jamba Juice, not yet expired! Tampons shredded beyond repair! A business card with the email address of an old coworker I promised I would contact and never did! A ticket stub for Death Cab for Cutie and the Dismembermemt Plan from two years ago! Black nailpolish! Receipts! Candy! Everything I've ever done is somehow documented in my bad! Omg!

I'm hopped up on caffeine today: a mocha and a few Mountain Dews will be in my system before the work day is out. I need to be Exceedingly Perky and Sharp-Minded, due to the fact that I have my second intervew at the PR firm today. Oooh man, is a lot ridingon this. I've alrady formulated mybudget based on the salary I woudl ideally receive, which is probably a bad idea, not because I'm superstitious, but because if I don't get the job I'll be forced to realize, with every check I write, that things could have been a little less tight had I not fucked up.

The nice thing about right now is both Aaron and I are gainfully employed, an event that has not occured since October of last year. My budget is based on my income only, even though I take care of all the money matters, so whatever I get from Aaron is homemade icing on the bulk-purchased cake.

I was trying on my outfit for my interview last night and started to FLIP OUT because I LOOK like I'm WEARING my MOTHER'S CLOTHES and I look RIDICULOUS and I CAN'T wear THIS OH my GOD WHAT am I GOING to DO???!!!

And then Aaron said, "You look great, here's a Vicodin," and everything was ok again.

I contemplated buying a whole new outfit just for the interview, but decided to buy new shoes instead. Cream-colored go-go boots from Nine West, originally $169.00, and folks, I got them for $43.00: 75% off. I'm the best shopper Ever.

I remember when I went shopping with Joanna for clothes for my bank job. I'd just come out of my goth phase, so when I looked at myself in the mirror in brown trousers and a striped button-down shirt, I literally screamed. It was to bizarre to look so normal. I think that's where the panic attack from last night came from: the realization of settling down, looking normal, fitting in...it's tough to let go of a rebellious phase. I'm reminded of punkrockboy, who went from anarchy in the U.K. to dkny suits in the office. It happens.

Lindsey from UCLA is coming to visit me, me, and only me! Tonight! She'll be here! Hooray!

Note to her, and all future visitors: Please be advised, I am very messy, so kindly prepare yourself for sleeping on a dog-hair-ridden couch, a stale tobacco stink, and dishes that are growing limbs. Thank you for your consideration."

Since then, here's what's been going on:

On Monday, I got the job and told my manager I was quitting. I felt like I was breaking up with someone. Lindsey came to visit!

On Tuesday, Lindsey and I went shopping on Haight and I worked.

On Wednesday, I worked and took 6 of my closest friends (apparently) out to dinner to celebrate the new job and Lindsey's presence. We went to dinner at Aaron's restaurant, and everyone had drinks, apps, and entrees, and I thought the bill was going to be $300, but it was only $97! We left a $60 tip, because we're rock stars.

On Thursday, I found out my manager had already hired a new assistant manager and was hurt because I didn't know I was so replacable (because my manager had told me that I was irreplaceable). Then I went to class half-way prepared for a test, having not gone to class last week, only to find out that the teacher hadn't shown up for class last week either and was pushing the test back two weeks since next week is spring break. Score.

On Friday, I worked.

Today, I slept in until 3pm, ate a bagel, a yogurt, and some bacon, watched Once Upon A Time In Mexico, ate lomo saltado, had sex for the first time in two weeks, watched Attack the Gas Station (for you!), got pissed off at the new club that just opened up around the corner for putting the emphasis on bass and less on "courtesy to our neighbors" and am currently sitting on my ass catching up on my diary.

The end!

one year ago today: "i mean, waking up multiple times throughout the night multiple times during the week in tears is just not normal."

two years ago today: "the college student's necessities: bottled water, red bull, instant noodles, and cigarettes. all in bulk, of course." and "i was going to end this paragraph with some amazingly eloquent conclusion, but it's just not happening."

three years ago today: nothin.