Oh, Bite Me
7 July 1999
(You might want to just go read this fine column by Jon Carroll instead Today. This warning provided as a public service.)
9:09 PM: Fucking bitch peabrain pissyass closed-minded goddamn babies that work here. Jesus.
It's just been a bad day all around Today, from waking up too early with heartburn, to then falling back asleep until way too late, to being on the train for an hour while a "juvenile disturbance" was cleared up (probably my cow orker was subjected to music of which she did not approve and shot someone).
The HR people here are saying that I said one thing on my stock forms, when I have fucking photocopies of those same forms that tell a very different story. But since they are Them and I am not, guess who controls reality. They are very graciously condescending to allow me to correct my earlier mistake and get my little CashSnack© without penalty. If, of course, I will simply confess to having made the mistake. Just sign right here, sir, that's it, it's really the best thing to do for everyone involved, sir. Let's not make this more difficult than it needs to be.
And, oh, just crap. Either I couldn't read - a distinct possibility - or the cable guide was lying, but either way, having finally watched the four episodes of The Sopranos I'd collected, of course I'm not taping tonight's episode because I didn't think there was one. It's a great show. But I'm not in a very appreciative mood right now. I'll say nice things about it later.
This new server connection sucks, too. It's that stop&go burstiness that makes typing such fun. My office crush hasn't said 10 words to me all month. Mary is probably going to leave the Bay Area altogether soon. I'm doing 5 jobs at once, none of them well, and liking it all less. When I get fired, eventually, I haven't the faintest fucking idea what I'll be able to do. My teeth are cracking up and falling out of my head.
And tomorrow is the first birthday of this pathetic drivel. (Pause to delete bitter comparisons to other recent more celebrated and more celebration-worthy anniversaries.)
And gosh, what a feeling of accomplishment.
10:12: What an idiot. It's not tomorrow, it's Friday.
Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.
All names are fake, most places are real, the author is definitely unreliable but it's all in good fun. Yep.
© 1998-1999 Lighthouse for the Deaf. All rights reserved and stuff.
The motto at the top of the page is a graffito I saw on Brunswick Street in Melbourne.