In which I’m down and out.
Last night after upgrading my web site, I made soup. It was really garlicky and delicious.
Then I went over to my friends’ house and knitted and chatted and watched TV. Then I came home for awhile.
Then, at midnight, I went out for smokes and a cocktail. (Why not? I was awake, and it’s not like I have a job or anything.) There was only one other patron in the bar, and he sat right next to me. I said, “Dude, please don’t take this personally, but I’m going to smoke this cigarette, drink this beverage, and read this book, and I won’t be paying any attention to you at all.”
He said, “That’s cool, I’m not lookin’ to get laid, I just wanna chat.”
I said, “You’re not listening. I’m going to READ. THIS. BOOK.”
He looked at me for a heartbeat, then said, “You’re joking.”
I said, “No. I’m completely serious.”
“You’re gonna sit in a bar and read a book?”
“Yes.”
“What? Why?!”
“It’s what I do. All the time. Ask the bartender.”
He looked at me as if I were a talking slug who had suddenly begun doing the macarena for no good reason. “Oh my God,” he finally manged, “that’s totally fuckin’ weird.”
So there you have it: one of my favorite activities? Totally weird. (No, people, as a matter of fact, I don’t have feelings.)
Additionally, I heard through the grapevine that I have a snowball’s chance in hell of being re-hired by my old employer because apparently I’m a bitch and no one in that department likes me. Combine that juicy little tidbit with the facts that I have had no interviews whatsoever from the applications I’ve submitted this year, I’ve been let go twice in the past six months, and that Bread just informed me that I have no insurance on my jeep, and you’ve got yourself a girl who really feels like shit today.
Oh, and to add insult to injury, for some reason we don’t have any water in the house today so I can’t even take a shower or do laundry or dishes.
All I want to do is get a job, go there, and work. I don’t care what it is any more; I just want a little job I can do well and leave at work when I go home. I need to get all these bills paid, and I need to get my shit out of Brett’s house, and I need to feel like less of a loser.
I’ve already applied for two jobs this week, but I’m going to apply for another right now just to be thorough. And then? And then, I think, I might just get drunk this afternoon — really drunk — and go to bed early. I’m serious. I feel that fuckin’ bad today.
Update: The water’s back on; I guess they broke a main and it’s been fixed. Also, Public Property is playing the Old Armory tonight, and instead of getting shitfaced I might go to that instead.
I’ve finished the back of my sweater, and I am in the process of finishing the front. I’ve used half the yarn I bought for the project, so I think it’s safe to assume that I’m halfway done. Sweaters take an awfully long time to knit, people.
