2003-12-06 - 4:26 p.m.
I fucking hate people. I really, really hate people. I get very discouraged about the human race when I have to deal with complete morons all day. I KNOW everyone feels as though they work in a place where they have to deal with complete morons...but I SWEAR being a waitress gives you a greater scope of just HOW STUPID people are. It's very simple to order breakfast, isn't it? I swear if I hear anyone order "you know, dippy eggs," one more time I will kick their ass. Or if one more person asks me if we have orange juice (HELLOOOO??? YOU ARE IN A BREAKFAST RESTAURANT ASSWAD!) Or even if one more person orders juice and I ask what kind of juice (asswad) and they stare at me like I'm an idiot and say, "Uh, orange?" with an implied,"Duh." FUCKERS.
Anyway. This is a typical Saturday. I just got home, I am completely strung out from work. Too many people on weekends, always running into someone, takes like five minutes just to pull an order of hash browns from the window because stupid yip yap weekend girls are in my way all the time. Went to the gym after work and tried out my new workout philosophy...which is, do not change the amount of weight on the machine after the last person used it (unless it was Brother Beefcake who uses maximum weight and has muscles in his ears...). And now I think I have screwed up a deltoid muscle because girl before me on the shoulder press (and girl did not look like she had any muscles, by the way which just presented a big challenge to me because I do have visable muscle (in places)and she had lifted THIRTY pounds more than I usually do which pissed me off because if one thing is in good shape on my body it is my arms and there is no reason for some normal girl with normal arms to be able to lift more than I can)...uh, yeah, the girl before me on the shoulder press had the weight at seventy and I just kept it there and did three sets of fifteen and feel like my shoulders are going to break off now. That is wonderful.
And I am totally avoiding cleaning my disgusting, just last week flooded, full of empty laundry soap bottles, basement.
And I still want beer. Yesterday my friend Kathy and I went out for lunch and I had a beer. But it wasn't as much fun as having a beer at home. I want a beer at home. And in a week, when the BOY (OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY) gets here I WILL HAVE ALL THE BEER I WANT. YIPPEEEEEEEE....I love Boy.
I hate my job.
I just wish I had enough guts to move my cats to France and live happily ever after....well, happily ever after until Boy is transferred to Brazil and I have to live in a compound. But even then I will be happy because I hate people anyway, right? As long as I have my cats, some books, some paper, some beer and the BOY (oh BOY oh BOY oh BOY) I will be happily ever after.
Must tackle basement now. MUST MUST MUST.
By the way. In my basement I have a hurdle. I don't mean that I have something I have to get over and past in my basement. I mean, I have a hurdle. From the track at my highschool. I stole it about twelve years ago. My mother never asked one question about that hurdle and let it live with her for about eight years. Then she made me take it. Now it is in my basement. I like my hurdle and would like to bring it into my living space but need some advice on how I can make it pretty enough to be in living space. Anyone have any ideas? Any creative thoughts on what a hurdle can be turned in to? I like that question.
I think I have had too much caffeine.
Going to basement now.|
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