Today I passed out a resume. That's right, one resume. I was interviewed on the spot. I thought it went well. The pay is above minimum wage ... that's good. Will I get the job? We shall see.Of course, I didn't pass out any more resumes. Nope. That's my only resume given out so far. I don't know what's wrong with me exactly ... I've gone out, I've listed places that are hiring, I've gone out some more ... all prepped up, made up, dressed appropriately ... and for some reason I can't seem to do it. I just suddenly look at the place and get this feeling, and my brain has this little tantrum: "I DON'T WANNA WORK THERE CHRIST ALMIGHTY DON'T MAKE ME WORK THERE PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE!!!!"
What brings this on? Search me.
I just took Cosmo's online Sex & the City quiz. Apparently I'm most like Miranda. You know, the bitter redhead played by Cynthia Nixon. Damnit ... why couldn't I be Samantha?
I saw Radiohead in Barrie on Friday. Great show, but with too many damn people squished up against each other. What is it with some of us ... what possesses us to pay large amounts of money to stand up for 5 hours straight in 35� weather squeezed into a massive crowd of people who on this occasion choose to deny each other even a hair of personal space? I wish I knew. But that doesn't matter. Because it was worth it. And when I stood on tiptoe, I could occasionally catch a brief glimpse of Thom Yorke's head, when my view wasn't blocked by those who stood a good foot taller than me. Sarcasm aside ... it truly was a great concert.
The TV in my bedroom works again. Thanks to Ms. M for bringing that whole auto/program shyte to my attention (this is me faced with any technical complication: "Guh? Buttons? Someone fix it!") and to Brendan for actually correcting the problem. I now have a fully functional cable TV in my bedroom. I no longer have to find other ways to amuse myself whilst my mom watches Law & Order (not that it's a bad show). Being a sloth just got easier.
Now the sloth is sleepy. Goodnight.
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