And to Think, I Could Have Been a Potato

I'm exhausted.

Oh, don't do it. Don't say it. Don't say, "Yeah, well I've been doing such and such and I'm going to discredit the fact that you're absolutely pooped by giving you a greater reason for it." Because I might bite you until you bleed if you say that. I have a deserved right to be tired. I've worked 8 hours nearly every day for the past week doing cleaning in a retail store. Don't bring down my pity party, dernit! Can't I just have one?

The truth is I am completely over this job. The truer truth is I'm completely over the idea of any job. I'm tired of making money just to lose it by paying for essentials. I have less than a hundred dollars saved up for next year's college. A college, by the way, I'm unsure, yet, of the name of. Too many commas in that last sentence. It read like William Shatner.

Hopefully having something to distract me, like researching plays I've never read and writing about them by pure research should be...really hard. My friend, Kaethe (don't hurt yourself, it's pronounced Cathy), said she could never be a dramaturg, too many details. I about had a heart attack. I've read Kaethe's papers. This girl puts the tail in details. I mean, she writes essays like I spread butter on my toast. I'm...I'm doubtful. I just picture this large blank program coming after me with a hallibut and smacking me in the arse.

*sigh*

I'm volunteering to do work, now. I'm a glutton for it. Now, I'm not only getting paid too little I've decided to skip the payment part all together. This better earn me mucho karma points. Imagine, if you had to turn in your karma taxes and get a return. Except then you get your dogma returns too. If it were like that on regular taxes I imagine some IRS guys coming door to door and smacking you up side the head. Then taking your car.

I need a new job. A job that pays more than 6.95. If anyone knows of one I'm open for it. Gimme two weeks and I'll be there lickity split. Or, as the lesbians say it, lickity spit. Or, as the jews say it...erm...thrifity spiff? Or, as the bi's say it, pickity which? There, I think I've insulted all of me, now.

currently: balancing my laptop in the direction of my stolen internet access.

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