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Friday, November 09, 2007
WET DOGS
This has so far been one of my longest work days ever--even surpassing the long overnight shifts at the Esso where I did nothing but stare at the sandwiches in the cooler and sweep up dried puke in the bathroom. I sort of feel like I should actually be eating one of those fucked up egg salad sandwiches while angrily hitting the gas "AUTHORIZE" button for some dirtbag on a snowmobile at 4am, but instead I'm sitting in a dark basement with two strange, small, dogs and an obese Siamese cat, editing horrendous HTML code while I browse online stores. My workday today wouldn't even PAY for half of the things I'm looking at--and trust me, it's not like my internet shopping is of the high-class sort.
Those were longish sentences. Much like my day. Yeah, I know--you get it. I finished all of my snacks before the first hour was up, and now, 6.5 hours in, I'm munching on some cereal I found in a zip-lock baggy at the bottom of my bag. The dogs look like they want it. It can't be that bad.
I'd like to expand on what the fuck I'm talking about, here, but I worry for my job security--if by job security I mean a tenuous hold on some sort of imaginary position that hasn't been approved yet, and being paid on a baby-contract basis because my boss feels a sense of obligation toward me. Yeah, that. Anyway, I guess what I mean is that I don't want to get "FIRED." Or something.
I do, however, need some fucking water. And an air freshener. Because man, I think these dogs have been down here a long time.
Unrelated post-script(s):
- I am at work. I will be writing more. Only 10 goddamn minutes have passed since I've started this post, but it's better than erasing ten thousand tags that say "[big] "* for no freaking reason and then flipping over to a website to look at geeky shirts I can't afford for another five minutes. That doesn't REALLY pass the time ALL THAT WELL.
- I still am not smoking. It's been a long time. This, however, WOULD BE A GOOD TIME TO START AGAIN, WOULDN'T IT?
- I AM REDUCED TO CAPS LOCK, WHICH IS, SURPRISINGLY, A GOOD SIGN OF MY FORTHCOMING CREATIVITY DUE TO JOB-RELATED STRESS.
- WORD.
* at first, I forgot that you can't just type HTML tags wherever the fuck you want. My caps-lock section turned huge and scary.
3:27 PM
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