5:40 p.m. - 2005-02-16
I'm back, I'm back, you know it.
You know, its really really really amazing what you'd do when you're trying to avoid writing a history paper. You might even break open your old online diary and just start typing away and hope that something comes to you regarding the role of women in politics in ancient Rome that no one has ever thought of before. Chances are, no, but its something to do while I wait for my coffee.
Oh, so much has changed, non-existant reader! The person I referred to as my platonic life-mate a few entries ago is now my non-platonic life mate and I still think he'd shudder to hear me say that. I have a new job, still at the old job but now they pay me $5 an hour more to do less work, but don't worry, friends and neighbors! Don't you worry a bit because I still hate my job and can be every bit as racidly bitter about it as I used to be. I hate my job. There, you see?
I still live in College Town in the same rather shitty apartment by my glorious self, although the apartment has gotten decidedly more shitty now that they've ripped a hole in my ceiling to fix a plumbing problem and never came back to fix the hole. This was three months ago, guys. I think that it adds a certain amount of ghetto charm though, so now when I have people over and they say "Oh, this isn't as bad as you said it was!" I can tell them to look up and they get my point. Roaches are really facinating company especially when they crawl on the ceiling over your bed and the street I live on is no more a hotbed of petty vandalism and rapists than it was last time I wrote. Seems less so, but I think I'm just getting used to it.
I still live across the street from the bars though, and that really does making being a raging alcoholic a convieient thing. Not that I am one, but if I choose to take that direction with my life I'll know where to start. I did go on a rampage last night, though, and when it was all over and I was stumbling around the apartment my boyfriend sat on the bed with his head in his hands moaning "God! Why won't you pass out! Please, pass out!" which I obligingly did on the living room rug. I woke up with nary a headache and a $50 bar tab. But such is life. Well, my coffee just showed up and this glorified book report isn't going to write itself. Love to the kittens of the world.
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