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10:12 p.m. - 2005-12-29
I'm in a Job-Free State of Mind.
You know what? My life blows the goat ass. Not as much as some people's, I'm sure, but nonetheless it's certainly sucking quite enough for me right now, thanks so much.

As you shall recall, when we last met, I hated my checking account, my job, and the holidays. Well, the "holidays" are over, so to speak, and I can't hate my job anymore, because I don't FUCKING HAVE ONE.

Goddammit.

Yes, again the Loopster is riding the unemployment train.

FUCK FUCK FUCK SHIT PISS ASS FUCK BUTTMUNCH FUCKITY SMACK FUCK.

I don't think I'm done yet.

PISS GODDAMN SHIT ASSFART FUCKSMACK BUTTCHOP DICKSLAP JUICY BOWEL MOVEMENT TWAT FLAPPING CRAPTASTIC FUCKING SLIMY GREASY SHIT HOLE RAMMITY FUCKNUGGETY CUNTTARD.

Maybe I'm done now.

I think.

Do I know why? Not really, although I have some guesses, most of which involve the words "attorney", "sleazebucket", "deceptive", and "bullshit on a stick." Yes, I'm a little on the freaked out side. Even though I did get a little of the old folding green for the stupid-ass commercialized Holiday of Death, I didn't get enough to sustain a prolonged period of job-free-ness. However, I will say that, for the first time in four months, I'm sure I'll get a good night's sleep. Their drama was killing me. I think I've been to the gym about three times in the last four months. Maybe four. Whatever, I still got an e-mail from my "trainer-ish" person that I hadn't been very consistent.

REALLY???

Seriously, though, I noticed something the other day. The Biggest Loser is having an open casting call for next season in Dallas in 12 days.

Dallas is not very far away.

BFRB said that's the only thing about me getting laid off/fired/fucked up the ass that makes any sense.

I'm supposed to go.

In case anyone hasn't noticed, I'm a little drunk/stoned at the moment (by "a little", I mean "completely fucking shitface trashed"). Shut it. This is a perfectly normal response to getting fired. Well, my boss actually said "laid off". What the fuck ever. If I could just get laid, that would complete the picture, but then, I'd have to go pretend I feel cute, which really, I don't right now. Not even a little. I haven't felt this disgusting and unattractive in a long time. I mean, it's not like I feel so hot under the best of circumstances, but I can examine the competition and at least feel like I'm competing, right? But not right at the moment. I just feel gross. Like it's perfectly logical for someone who is not that attractive in the most empirical sense of the word (*cough*GID*cough*) to reject the shit out of me.

I hate this. I hate that my confidence can be shaken by getting rejected on the job. But really, what choice do I have? I don't have a husband, or kids, or a nice house, or any of that other shit that provides people a place to measure their self-worth by something besides their job. I have the whole being smart thing, which is supposed to make the job go smoothly and make them love me even though I am probably overqualified and, as I have been told before, too smart to be doing what I am for a living.

I suppose the one good thing that's come from this is that I have realized that GEB, no matter his high-maintenance silliness, is one of the best friends I've ever had. He works at the Law Firm of Bloody Death, and is the one who informed me of the opening. And he has been supportive, both to my former colleagues and to me.

So what does this mean? Does this mean I am destined to be a reality TV star?


And now, for the end of year meme (god that word is so fucking retarded!!!): courtesy of Miss Clarity:

I think the deal is that you cut & paste the first sentence from the first entry in each month of 2005. That's what we're going to pretend, anyway.

January:

Well, as usual, I'm doing things in some jacked up order, and I'm FUCKING DRUNK ON CHAMPAGNE on New Year's Day.

February:

I hate the people in my office.

March:

I have made some interesting discoveries over the last few days. I have a bathroom floor. And a kitchen counter. For real.


April:

It sounds like the beginning of some hideously bad joke, but I swear, this really happened today.

May:

I have long had a rule, written by experience, that recycling jobs and men is a no-no.

June:

First, a big thank you to all who took my survey. Second, if you haven't...please go take it...I'll post the results on Monday.

July:

To say that the last 10 days have been a little crazy would be like saying that Hitler was slightly racist, or that Siberia is slightly cold, or that Tom Cruise is slightly gay.

August:

My life has been nuts, and I have a stupid temp job where I have to share a stupid office and therefore cannot update at work. Dammit.

September:

I had pretty much decided that I was not going to write about Hurricane Katrina.

October:

I should so not be typing an entry right now, but I don't care.

November:

Ah, yes, my poor neglected children, the latest contest results:

December:
Good afternoon, my pretties. I finally did one of the (many) guest entries I owe. I also did one last week.


Dude, that was boring. I really must start jumping right into my stories more.

 

 

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