Tuesday, March 15, 2011


Sunday, March 13, 2011

Back in the Saddle

So I'm out of wine. Wait, that's not true. I've still got a box of the stuff in my room, ancient relics from Christmas when I got lazy and decided my clients would live through the holidays without 'em. Nonetheless, I tired of drinking free booze and made a late night trip to the convenience store for some real liquor.

That's when I saw an old friend, a particular brand of el mucho cheapo brandy that doubles as kerosene, I'm sure. Must admit, it made me smile. Takes me back to another time, when all I wanted to do was drown myself in the stuff.

Took one off the shelf and promptly paid for it.


Yes, another Saturday at home. Slept the whole day, too. It's a nice feeling, just watching the dust bunnies stage their impending assault behind the living room sofa. Was tempted to move 4 feet to get the vacuum cleaner, but hell, let 'em have their day. I'm too lazy to bother.

Which brings me to this blog, which I realize has not been replenished of my usual nonsense for almost a month. A few of you may wonder why, has my life finally found some direction and meaning? Have I taken a tour of India for some Eat, Pray Love bullshit? Did I slip and fall in the shower, laid comatose and becoming rat-food all this time? Nope, not yet anyway (though I'm sure the rats are still plotting). Chalk this one up to my inability to hold one single coherent idea for more than a minute.

Oh, and did you know I'm employed again? Yeah, I was unemployed for a week, but now I'm in voluntary slavery again. How is it? Fine, I guess. A little ruffled at all the actual work that is expected of me. I knew I shouldn't have put all those "achievements" in my resume. Now they think I'm some sort of wunderkind who has all the answers.

Why did I have to leave the old nest? That place where I installed myself as king of the third floor and made doing my job look a lot harder than what it really was (the real truth of it was that I really didn't do anything but lug around some notes and some official looking printouts and read the reports of my staff). And it wasn't like someone found out, too. When I told them I was leaving my third floor kingdom, they even made a counter offer! Maybe I should have taken it, it wasn't bad at all. And I almost did, too. If they just put it just a tinsy weensy bit more (like a dead horse's head in my bed, perhaps) I would've jumped on it.

Well, that's history now. And I've got this real (real) job where they expect me to do stuff for real (really) and expect me to produce real (I can't over-stress how real this is to me) results. I hate to say this, but the prospects of me hitting the streets is pretty real enough as well. THE REAL WORLD SUCKS!!! I want to go back to college and do nothing but copy off my seatmate and wait for the next booze-fest to begin. *sigh*


Yes I know, I'm beginning to sound like a whining little bitch. Don't worry, I'm beginning to lose respect for myself as well. Even more than you guys are, probably. Whatever is that saying, 'Be careful what you wish for, because Santa just might give it and drop that big 55-inch television right on your head'?

Oh, if you're wondering, no I haven't bought myself a 55-inch television just yet off my salary. I was gonna, but settled for a bottle of cheap brandy instead. Tastes much better with ice, too. (What the heck am I blabbering about? Gee, I dunno. This is real cheap brandy, didn't I just say?)