Today was the shittiest day I’ve had in months.
And the bad ones always just sneak up on you. It wasn’t the day where I drank the night before and got like six hours of sleep (yesterday), it was today when I got almost 11 hours of sleep. Okay. The shit started when I had to take my cat to the vet this morning to have his sutures removed. Getting him into the cat carrier took 45 bloodcurdling, frenzied, INCREDIBLY ANGRY MINUTES. By the end of it I didn’t really care at all. I just wanted to leave him outside to die. Through the blood rushing in my head, I kept thinking of the protagonist of Poe’s “The Black Cat.” If you’ve read the story, you get my drift. I wanted/still want to kill that cat SOOOO much. I haven’t been that angry in probably a year. Here’s the mess in the spare bedroom that I have to clean up later today:
Reason #1 for shitty day: 45 minutes catching my cat.
I was so angry at that motherfucking cat I flipped the bed over when he tried to run under it. I ended up breaking two flourescent bulbs in the scuffle, not to mention overturning both beds. *deep breath*
So I was ten minutes late to work in dropping that furry bastard off in Brookings. Obviously, I wasn’t in the cheeriest of moods. So I thought to myself, okay: You’re at work. Just put on the happy face for three more hours and get the fuck out of here. That worked fine, except for I broke down and did something to increase a coworker’s productivity that I had been saying I would do for like ever. But later in the day I actually had to work with her on something and I couldn’t demonize her. I guess it’s easier to think of people as totally worthless and inept than just flawed.
I left work for a while because someone I needed to work with was gone and went over to the movie theater to play some dance revolution. My knees have been feeling like shit lately so I haven’t been playing. I totally fucking rocked. And I went over to Ray’s to get a blueberry IZZE (my soma*) and I was refreshed. Went back to work to do my new odious task, and it wasn’t so bad at all, except for it turned out that the client didn’t want the free incarnation of what I was doing, so I went to the paid part and asked for a price (from a different department) and then like twenty minutes later my boss chewed me out for talking to the other department. I was just trying to be helpful. The moment he finished his first sentence, I already understood that he didn’t want me talking to the other department under any circumstances. However, he kept going and after sentence number ten I involuntarily assumed my “you continuing to talk is wasting my time and the time of the company” expression. How many fucking times do I have to nod and say “I get it” before you will shut up? Huh? I’m not stupid. It only takes a few sentences to convey whatever you need to say. Asshole.
So the client that I had been talking to earlier called me back because I said I was going to call her and didn’t (because of the boss chew-out). I gave her the estimate (since it was on my desk) and told them to talk to the other department and that they handle those things. Then when I leave I get chewed out a second time for talking to her. What am I supposed to do? Hang up on her? I told her to contact the other department. Motherfuck.
Reason #2 for a shitty day: chewed out by my boss for trying to be helpful while doing a task I’d never done before.
I guess earlier I had involuntarily rolled my eyes at him. I wanted to be truthful and say, I only rolled my eyes at you because you say in twelve sentences what I say in a few words. And then he started going into this shit about me “not having a background [in the type of work we do].” That was the last straw. I don’t have any experience? I did the job that we do at my job with two people (Molly and myself). I guess I’m just too fucking inept to grasp the concept of our work. Fuck him. How dare him. I just hate old people. I’m sorry, but they are just fucking stupid and will never shut the fuck up.
So of course I kept mulling this shit over and over and over in my head as I walked over to the car repair place to see if my car was done. They said it would be done at 5 p.m., and it was about 4:40 p.m., so I decided to go over to Ray’s and get another IZZE. As I quenched my thirst with the deliciousness of the Grapefruit IZZE, I was totally refreshed and all the hatred and bullshit and duplicity just melted away. It felt good. I went over to the theater and played a few more games of dance revolution after I finished my soda. Then I went over to check on my car. Unfortunately, it’s not going to be done until tomorrow. That made me sad, but at least it will be done early in the morning so I will be able to drive home and drive to Brookings to pick up my cat. I hope they don’t charge me some outrageous fee for keeping him overnight. And he’d better not open that wound up again or I’m going to fucking kill him myself.
All the vitriol is officially gone. That’s a nice feeling. I need to start packing up my books. And cleaning up that hella mess of a guest room. Some motherfucker is coming to look at the house tomorrow. The whole thing with the eye roll really surprised me, usually I keep my body language in check to the enth degree, but I guess with my extreme certainty of moving, I just don’t care. That’s a bad thing, but I can’t help it. I hate my job now, even though almost all days I love it. I realized today that I need a bad job. A bad job would have made me feel horrible about taking a semester off of school. Oh well. What’s done is done. I’d better find a good job in Sac. Or a bad job. I don’t really care. All I want is hella hours. And I’m willing to work my ass off for them. I guess that’s all that matters.
I told Ripley a few days ago that I’m moving away. He seemed really bummed, but I don’t really know why. It’s not like we were ever going to hang out again. Not with his creepy boyfriend-roomate lurking around in the picture. I sort of agreed to watch this movie that I rented from Netflix that he said was good (Brokedown Palace) before I leave. I rented it ages ago, and I still kept it on my hard drive until now in hopes that someday we’d end up watching it. How pathetic is that?
Well, I should get started on that room. I might have to keep Sukiaki in there for a few more days and it will suck if he has to step in that broken bulb glass. And I need to remove the hard drives from all the derelict computers in that room. I’m sure there are some useful data on some of those drives. Eventually I will get an external IDE-USB drive enclosure and attempt data recovery on those drives. One of them could have priceless relics from me and Kelly’s childhood (it came from Grammie’s old comp.) But anyway, must go.
*In my vernacular, all references to soma are of the Brave New World-ian variety
Categories: Meditations on work,Melancholy,Vitriol
Me and Amanda and Sara and John hung out last night and watched I (heart) Huckabees and they loved it. We had incredible amounts of fun and we tape-recorded all of the cool things that we came up with while we were drunk. PLEEZ TRANSCRIBE THEM MY WIFEY OF WIFES! I will love you forever! (platonically of course) And Amanda and I are married. Lol.
I rode my bike into town, seeing Anus Face and Matt from work. It was TEN MILES. I’m so hardcore.
First me and Amanda played Mancala:
Man, I never thought that drunken Scrabble could be so much fun. We were so drunk we couldn’t come up with any words more than four letters and it took us like 10 turns to pass of the three letter mark. lol.
We paid out on French bread and jam and watched the nude pole dancing championship. We of course critiqued each woman’s attributes and made fun of them when necessary. It was so sad! The one we were rooting for didn’t win at all! Lame. Random dildo!
After that Sara put on this Evolution movie, and I found myself drunk and trying to explain how the way they kill the alien is totally illogical because the way arsenic kills you is that it interferes with the electron transport chain in your mitochondria…and I couldn’t put the words together to save my life. But at least I knew why everything was impossible. Amanda cuddled with my feet:
Me and Amanda were SO loopy in the beginning (even before the booze) and during the movie we totally lost our steam. But here’s more loopyness! It’s called lesbian bottle sex.
Thirty minutes later everyone was asleep, me spooning the full-body pillow on the couch. Sara gave me a ride home in the morning, and all was well with the world.
Well, everything that could have gone wrong did. And I got here like thirty minutes late because my dad drives like a corpse. And I’m hungry. And I want to go home. But no, I have to wait until the staff finishes processing the files I gave them to make sure they’re OK. I’m in such a foul mood.
I hate when you’ve been working your ass off all night and then someone accuses you of being a laggard. That is just so infuriating. Almost as infuriating as when those people come up to me playing DDR after I’ve just passed three of the hardest songs on the machine and I die on the last one and they go “Ha, you failed.” That reminds me of a quote:
“There are the people that do things, and the people that criticize what’s been done. Get in the first line, it’s a lot shorter.”
Well, I guess I’m going to go read some JTHM until this retarded job is over.
Categories: Meditations on work,Vitriol
> Fischerspooner – Ritz 107
> Nine Inch Nails – Closer (Deviation)
I’m about 20 pages from finishing Diary. It’s very good, but I can’t help feeling like it’s just… book-TV, for want of a better term. Pesudo-intellectual pulp. But maybe that’s just my mood. It doesn’t really hold together as well as his other works. But what can I say? I’m not as good a writer as Chuck is.
With the thought of moving, I look around my room at these things that have been surrounding me for years… like my big painting. My only painting. I just painted it and never really painted again. It expressed everything I needed to express visually. That and canvases are really expensive. And I never got inspired again.
For the last few days I’ve been playing around with the idea of starting to write fiction again. I sorta have this idea about the character who writes obituaries for a newspaper and everything he buys he only thinks about in terms of the amount of people that need to die for him to buy a certain thing.
My music is skipping what with the voice-recognition and a bunch of other programs I’m running. My processor is chugging along as much as it can, but even with the hyperthreading, the single-core Pentium has limits, even though it’s a 3.0GHz. It’s not sufficient. My machine is officially obsolete. But I’ve had obsolete computers my whole life and loved them to death, so I think that Navarre will have a long life yet to come, until the Intel-based Macs come out. I really hope they rock. Maybe getting that expensive sound card will solve all of these audio issues. With my current plans, I don’t think I’m going to be finding out anytime soon. I can’t believe it. The 14th. I guess it’s what I’ve always wanted, but it involves giving up everything that I have already. Giving up Crescent City. Hmm. I wonder if I’ll miss it.
I’m poor here, and I will be poor in Sacramento. But I would rather be poor there. Already I’m looking around my room picturing what things will fit in the boxes I have and which things will not. I’m wondering if I’ll be able to fit all of my possessions in my car. I’m looking at the titanic pile of DVD ROMs, 5 1/2 inch floppy disks, unwatched DVDs, etc. breeding in the pile beside my computer desk. I’m going to have to sort through everything I own. I feel tired just thinking about it. But I did take a shower and now I feel rejuvenated, even though I don’t know for what. Perhaps I should start packing my books. I do have a few small boxes I could use. Or I should give up. Sleep, and surrender myself to Saturday. Giving up sounds like a good plan. I need some failure to balance out the ostensible success of leaving my dad’s house.
Categories: Happiness,Leaving Bouville,Nostalgia
The Hacker – Sequenced Life
The Hacker w/ Miss Kittin – Masterplan
Human League – Open Your Heart
Bjork – It’s Not Up To You
Basement Jaxx – Red Alert
How cool! I just received my first random anonymous mean comment! I knew this would happen someday! I’m so excited! I’ve reached stage four! W00t!
And like I don’t have any idea who you are. Come on. Don’t try to beat a geek at his own game:
Your IP is 207.62.205.179 , host is e-179.redwoods.cc.ca.us. Who goes to CR? You do. *snicker*
Today was pretty cool. Me and Ben got together after I got off work to collaborate on the new Circle J menu and eat fresh grapes from my dad’s greenhouse.
We printed out a rough draft to show Stephanie, I wonder what she will think of it. I absolutely love Adobe Creative Suite. I can make the coolest stuff with it! And I love that I can get the seriously discounted student pricing on it. Mouhahaha. Me and Ben were fucking around with my voice recognition software as I voice-typed the contents of the menu, trying to make it recognize obscenities. It was too fun. Then we watched music videos for a little while and I got him hooked on that incredibly strange Chemical Brothers video for “Get Yourself High.” They make the coolest music videos.
Oh my God. I just got off the phone with my cousin’s boyfriend Dan, and he basically gave me the ultimatum of moving in September or not at all. So I’m giving notice on September 14th and moving down
to coincide with the Nine Inch Nails Sacramento tour date. I guess. It doesn’t seem real yet. I guess the day will have to come. And I will have to go in there and tell my boss. It will be the beginning of the whole new life for me. A life not bound by Crescent City bullshit. A life in an ersatz big city! I am so fucking excited!
I wonder if I will have the balls to quit. Holy shit…I’m going to need boxes. Oh my god. *wjaplsda;jkl;ljkdgsagh;lggh;h;gh;g;gf5289494835!!!!!* *random keyboard mashing of glee!*
I just don’t know what to do now. I feel the need to start packing immediately. I guess I should continue reading that Simone de Bevoir novel. It isn’t really very well written, but I guess in all books that are translated you have to give the original author of the benefit of the doubt. I guess I really should be reading that Chuck P. book, being as I am planning to give Sara back all the books that she let me borrow when I see her on Sunday.
I need to stop mulling over this and just picture the most important part: the quitting part. That is pivotal to my entire plan. I just need to positively visualize what would happen. I’m not sure whether I’m going to tell him that my dad is selling the house… because that would be a lie. But I could tell him that there are a few people interested in it, which is totally true.
I AM SO FREAKING EXCITED!!! EEK!!! This is like, the pivotal moment in my life: moving out of my dad’s house. W00t. Well, I must go. Simone de Bevoir needs me.
Categories: übergossip!,Happiness,Leaving Bouville,Meditations on work
Pathetic people are invading MySpace. Case in point.
He tried to add me as a friend. I’m not that desperate, nor will I ever be. But I do like making fun of people. Hmm…what a dilemma. I should play with his “mind.” I need something to entertain me in the months before I move. And I’m on my last Chuck P. novel (Diary).
I made tacos last night (I LOVE tacos), but I made them with cheese and they were uberdelicious but I’m starting to feel the revenge of the lactose. Ouchies. Fucking stomach. Anyway, I must get ready for work.
Categories: Gossip
