A Legal Alien

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10 August 2007

(Photo from Classic Toy Trains Magazine)

Welcome to the mood swing express! Calling at Sentimental Sappy Town, Rageville, Righteous Indignation City, Mind Numbingly Bored, and the greater Headache-y/Crampy metropolitan area. Salty snacks, ice cold beer, and as much chocolate as you can ingest in 24 hours located in car C near the middle of the train. Enjoy your trip.

My back hurts. I'm craving chocolate. And chips. I wanted to get a new phone today but I can't until October when my contract will let me upgrade. I cut my hand on the vise in my dad's workshop. I had about 5 hours of sleep because stuping fucking LUIS LEYVA does not know that his mother does not live at my phone number, even after I tell him EVERY DAY. He leaves messages for her on my voice mail. Because stupidity runs in families and dialing the correct phone number at 8:47am is damn near impossible when you hear banjo music in your head all the time.

School starts on Wednesday. Summer is over. I spent Tuesday attending the world's most boring training on netiquette and proper use of the internet in the workplace. Apparently downloading child porn and running a gambling site off the district's network is grounds for termination. Damn. My plans for world domination must wait until I find a job without an Internet Use Agreement that we review CLAUSE BY CLAUSE for over an hour until everyone signs and turns it in. ("No username and password for you!")

So yeah, I'm a bit cranky. It's a variety of different things, 98% hormonal. I'm not usually a moody mess but the last few days? Yeah, I'm there. Sentimental. Easily stirred to nail spitting anger. Easily frustrated. Clumsy (Yes, I did trip twice getting into the car today and no, no one saw me except 4 neighbors and 3 people at the dry cleaners. WHAT ARE YOU STARING AT?). Emotionally wrung out.

I'll be fine in a day or 2. Tread lightly until then or I may force you to bring cookies.

For Paul Barrett

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