lobsterchick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- How Sad My Life Is That These Really Are My Biggest Problems Okay, seriously. Two things in my life that are not funny anymore are my lack of job and my weirdo fear of zombies. First, the job. Or lack thereof. Or whatever you want to call it. I was queen of that fucking nursing home for the hour I spent there, I tell you, QUEEN! They shouldn't have even interviewed anyone else! Instead, tomorrow, I will perform the call of shame, wherein I ask, meekly, if perhaps my application wasn't stuck in between two others, and if, in fact, I was not overlooked for a callback. I mean, I know that's not the case, because that shit never happens (at least not to me), but when you're really really wanting a job, you're willing to look or sound like an assmunch for the five minutes it takes to research the off off off chance that maybe, just maybe, some secretary somewhere really did forget to call you. Just in case. And, the zombies. I think that if, a full thirty-six hours after the movie that inspired your fear started, you are still afraid, you might consider professional help. Then again, if you are me, you might laugh heartily at that thought, and check over your shoulder one more time, just in case. Those fuckers move fast. I think one big part of the problem that normally wouldn't exist is that our bathroom is still being remodeled (we're thinking Monday for a tentative finishing date), so I have to go downstairs to use the bathroom there. I'm a water drinker, so that adds up to about ten or so trips into Scary Zombie Land every day. The worst part of all of this, is that I try to reason myself out of my fears not by sitting myself down for a stern talking-to and forcing myself to admit that zombies are not, in fact, real, but by saying things like, "If there were zombies in the house right now, you'd already be dead," and "Good thing they're not intelligent, because while they're quick, you have a brain a delicious delicious brain oh my god what was that?" I mean, really. At what point do I have to consider the possibility that I have crossed the line from quirky neurosis into scary psychosis? I think Dr. Phil would say when it starts interfering with my daily life, but in that case, I should have headed straight from the movie theater into the loony bin. 11:50 PM - 25 March 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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