I'm up early. Actually, I was up at 5:30 am or something, despite having gone to bed at around 2 am, because my nose was so stuffed up I couldn't breathe properly enough to sleep. Blowing my nose doesn't seem to help, either ... it just makes my ears block up or pop. Someone once told me you could go deaf that way. Is that true?I have to renew my health card today, or my doctor's office will send us a huge bill for a mere otherwise-OHIP-covered annual check-up. Stupid new health cards ... if only I hadn't lost my old one without the picture and expiry date and all that crap, I wouldn't have to do this. It would be OK if bars and clubs and the like actually accepted the new health cards as valid photo ID, like they were supposed to have started doing, but for some idiotic reason, they don't. That's why I got myself a passport several years ago ... not because I was going anywhere (I have yet to leave North America), but because I needed photo ID. I don't drive. I don't even have my G1. Shut up. I'm freaked out by the idea. I was always bad at bumper cars, and I have trouble merely walking in a straight line. Also, back in the 7th grade in "Family Studies" class (apparently "home economics" was no longer politically correct enough), when we learned to use the sewing machines, our horrible witch of a teacher would always shriek at me to stop pushing down on the pedal so hard (I swear, I tried so hard to do it gently, but the second I lowered my foot the machine went out of control), and she said accusingly "It's just like driving a car ... if you can't push the pedal correctly you'll end up getting in an accident and being horribly killed! I hope I'm never stuck in a vehicle with you."
OK, so maybe I at least need to get behind the wheel in a large, deserted area so I can find out if driving a car is in fact anything like using a sewing machine. Maybe.
You know, I have to admit, Orlando Bloom really is pretty damn hot. When Crystal told me that she'd heard he'd said in an interview that he was only attracted to women who were model-thin, I made a point of not taking a liking to him, because "That's just wrong, I don't care if physical attraction is out of one's control!", but damn ... whenever I see him in an ad for some movie I get a little drooly. Do you think there's anything I can do about that, besides watching TV with a bib on?
It's "Denim Day" at work today. Our manager has this thing with saying "denim" instead of "jeans", even if he's just talking about jean pants. He won't say "You're wearing jeans." he'll say "You're wearing denim.", or "denim pants". He also won't call a button-down shirt a dress shirt. He calls it a "woven". How fucking confusing is that? He also calls a tank top a "cami". Short for "camisole", I guess ... but isn't that supposed to be an undergarment? Why can't he just talk about clothes like a normal human being? If he were a famous designer, it might be excusable.
Well, I guess the point is that I get to wear jeans to work today. So that's good, at least.
I suppose I should get ready to leave now. It's almost nine, I start work at noon, and I have no idea how long this health card renewal thing will take, or how far it is from work, for that matter.
Bye.
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