This is what I do when I work overtime.

April 24, 2006

Argh, overtime! I enjoy getting my paychecks with the overtime, but when it's 6:15 at night and I've been here since 7 in the morning, I start to wonder if the money's really worth it. It usually is. So what if I sorta kinda have to be a workaholic? At least I rock ass at my job, beyotch.

Anyway. Excuse me, I'm delusional at this moment.

So yesterday, I met Natalie at Starbucks and we had our "last hurrah." She is moving to California, where she has no job and a house with 2 roommates that she hasn't met yet and is going to live in a 9 by 9 foot room. But I'm excited for her...she just wants to get the shit out of Dallas and I don't blame her for that. But yeah, it was kinda sad. But I wasn't really losing a friend in Dallas, I'm gaining a friend in Newport Beach! Yeah, man.

When I got there she was already with this really cheesy-looking dude who apparently won a gold medal in the Olympics for wrestling. THAT was impressive but HE was not. He told this whole story about something like beer frisbee or something. Whatever.

I know this will drive certain people in my life crazy if they read this particular entry, but still, it happened exactly a year (and one day) ago and it should be documented:

Me: Hi and stuff.
Matt: Hi! I have something unsettling to tell you.
Me: Okay.
Matt: Jennifer and I have moved to boyfriend/girlfriend status and she has requested that I don't see you.
Me: Okay.
Me: I pretty much knew that.
Me: But.. I wish you the best of luck. I hope you're happy and stuff.
Matt: Thank you. That means a lot.

it still hurts. So much.

So, fuck 'em.

There's not much else I can say about the situation that hasn't already been said, so I'll just say this again: Fuck 'em.

In other news, I kinda feel like I'm taking advantage of Josh sometimes. Like, I kinda made him mop my floor at my apartment on Saturday. While I listened to the radio and ate the pancakes and sausage he brought to me in bed. Well! I promise, it's really not as bad as it sounds.

It's like...I pay for stuff and he does all the physical labor. Is it wrong that I like it that way? I'd rather be lazy and be cooked and cleaned for than like, have stuff paid for me or something. I just feel bad about it. He doesn't seem to mind, though. I am a terrible, horrible person.

Also, I have a yeast infection and it SUCKS! Fuck you, yeast!

That is all.

*****

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"But don't call Tracy Gold and the Lifetime Movie of the Week yet...

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"You know things are bad when the chick at Subway asks what the hell is wrong with you."