Oh The Douchebaggery

Is now on day two and I gotta' admit, I'm beginning to panic a little.

Don't get me wrong, I know I made the right decision, however hasty it might have been.
I had to leave before the last remnants of my will to live were hoovered out by the man.

But what the fuck do I do next?

I was thinking of maybe doing some editing but have decided that I can't have a job where all I do is sit. I have too much energy for that. I'm equal parts water, oxygen, vim, and vigor. I gots to move, people!

I was thinking I could be a mail-carrier.

The outfit's stupid but there is a lot of walking around involved and it's about to become supremely beautiful outdoors.

But I don't think you can get a Federal job if you have been convicted of a crime.

Silly, Silly, public indecency charges. People pay good money to see that kind of stuff!

So, folks, I am open to suggestions.

On a positive note I did get quite a bit done today.
For some ungodly reason I woke up at six today.
I wish I could sleep in...ahh, slumber. I remember that fair mistress.

I have friends that sleep all day on their days off.

Although, technically, that could be described as a symptom of depression.

And, as much as I bitch, I really do love life (when I'm not chained to a witless nine-to-five, that is).

But, yeah!

I caught up on some Jerry Springer and I gotta' say, social relevance be damned! I can't believe the guy's not bigger than Oprah. Or Jesus, for that matter.

My apartment and car are cleaner than they have been in a long time and my dog has been walked to exhaustion. Sorry, Sheen.

But I can't get paid for leisuring!

To make that happen I'd have to join the cast of The Hills.

So, seriously. Hook me up with a job tip...please.

I'll love you long time.