lobsterchick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Y'All! Y'All! We Can Conduct Ouahselves as Ladies! I really really really really need to be getting ready to go out with Colleen tonight. In addition to cleaning the bathroom, so I guess that's not getting done. Unfortunately, I'm being blinded by the trainwreck that has overtaken my diary and its comments section. The I.S. department at my work "accidentally" disconnected my internet access last night (I say "accidentally" because come now. They know how to work a computer. I think they just like to hear my boss yell. The woman gets cranky if she doesn't get her PETsMART pages printed out.) and so I had to wait until I got home to review the day's aftershitstorm. It's lessening each day, which is awesome, but I can't wait until things are entirely back to normal and my comments go back down to zero. I always secretly bitched in my head because no one ever commented on my entries but now I'm singing "Old Time Rock 'n' Roll" in my head and wondering where the good ol' days went. Not that you shouldn't comment if you feel compelled, but I'd like to keep the overall number below SEVEN MILLION. Ooh. In other work-related news, I officially have a job with the architects and engineers when my temp contract runs out. Huzzah! The employment gods, after over two years of scorn and derision, have smiled down unto me. And there was much rejoicing. Okay, synchronized swimming. I know it gets a lot of shit, but it fulfills my one and only requirement for an enjoyable sport: It contains prancing. Therefore in my book, it is equal to both gymnastics and figure skating. And baseball, if the seventh-inning stretch is particularly eventful. Going to brush my teeth now. 8:00 PM - 27 August 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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