Somewhat Malcontent

Which is why I have just 1 hairbrush.  Fynn has 1 pick and I have 1 hairbrush.  I keep my 1 hairbrush in the basket on the back of the toilet in the bathroom.  It’s always there.  Except right now.  Right now, when I’m about to get in the shower because I’ve been doing yardwork for 4 hours (and no, I’m still not done – I have a big fucking yard) and Fynn and I have to be in Cleveland sometime between 3 and 6 (I’m shooting for 5ish at this point) for a birthday party.  I asked Fynn if I could user her 1 pick and guess what?  She doesn’t know where it is, which is why she’s been using my 1 hairbrush which is now missing.  *grrr* Will someone please teleport me a new hairbrush?  Thanks.

I’m so mad I can’t even think straight.  It has to do with my job.  I feel like I’ve been lied to and jerked around for the past year and a half.  I finally thought I was going to get some resolution, but instead what I’m getting is an offer to transfer to Cleveland.  There are a million reasons I don’t want to work in Cleveland.  First of all, that station is union, which means that my abilities would count for zero and my lack of seniority would count for everything.  I’d have to wear a uniform and drive an hour and twenty minutes to work one way every day.  I’d start off on days but am almost guaranteed being bumped to afternoons after 6 months when the job bids go in.  I’d be seeing Fynn even less than I am now.  The job market in this area is so bad that I don’t know that I’m going to be able to find a job that pays as much as I make now.  Which means if I want to not end up living a life of poverty than I’m going to have to move.  Except how the fuck am I supposed to save enough money to do that when I am barely making enough money to live on right now?

I feel defeated.

As soon as I’m feeling entertaining again, I’ll post something.  In the meantime, I’m still lurking on all of your blogs being the entertainee.

Seriously, I could’ve spent 40 minutes with a boxcutter and a bowl of rubbing alcohol and had a better time.  If you’re going to put out this kind of shit regularly at least have the decency to send me a free roll of toilet paper.

Yours, etc,

Molly

I’ve sent out 8 resumes now (I’m kinda going for 1 a day) and I got my first call back, in which I managed to sound like a complete moron during the call.  Anywhoooo, I have to go in and talk to a real live person on Friday morning.  Hours = suckier than now.  Money = way better than now.

*sigh*

I can’t win :P

Does anyone else remember Lex Luthor’s sidekick Otis from Superman?

Does anyone else see the resemblance?

Don’t I look aroused?  You can’t tell because of my ninja-veil, but that’s my ‘O’ face.

*sigh*

I’m on an Office rerun kick today.  I’ve decided that if Jim and Pam do not get together before the end of the season I’m not going to watch it next year.  I just don’t understand why the producers and writers of this show would build it up SO much in the second season and then just yank the carpet out from under us.  In addition, this crap where they claim that they’re trying to make the show more realistic and then there’s a month break between episodes is total BS.  I’m really starting to feel that Rashida Jones joining the cast was all John Krasinski’s doing, after all.

Having said that, nothing can change season 2 of “The Office” for me.  Just like nothing can ever change season 5 of “That 70’s show”.  I’ll just pretend that Pam and Jim did get together after casino night and Jim never left the show.

Today I met a landscaper.  He was an older gentleman who seemed normal enough in his camouflage hat and tee chatting about his homemade mower deck and the deer population problem in northern Ohio.  He seemed normal enough until he casually mentioned that he’d been an advisor to President Reagan and was solely responsible for approving billion dollar navy contracts to certain large companies and then went right back to talking about his friend Terry and something about the rising price of oil.

When I worked in the mall there was a middle-aged man in a jump suit who used to come and talk to me on a daily basis for years.  He was a few cards shy of a full deck, if you know what I mean.  He used to ramble on about his millions and his inventions and I’d just pretend to listen while I did my work.  I never found out his real name and I never saw him again after I left the mall.

I spent sometime on line just now trying to find a list of names of advisors to President Reagan.  I couldn’t find one.  I’m dying to know if the guy who is mowing the lawn was really powerful once, or if he’s certifiably insane.

Anyone out there an expert in the history of American politics?

Poppy has just made my day.  For a preview clip of next week’s episode of The Office check just spot-check her blog.

I can’t mow my lawn.  I’d give you the details, but they’re boring.  And since I’m tired of not being able to mow my lawn, next week, instead of paying bills, I’m going to buy a lawnmower.  To replace the riding tractor that has not worked right since I bought the house, the *free* lawnmower that I can’t seem to get my hands on and the self-propelled lawnmower that my dad refuses to let me load in the trunk of my car and borrow for an afternoon (despite the fact the he lets my brother do it all the time).  Given the fact that I hate yardwork, you would think that I’d be pleased by this development.  But the fact is that my yard is already somewhat overgrown due to all the rain we’ve had and with my luck by next weekend it will be pouring down rain and I won’t be able to mow then, either.

I don’t have any problems that couldn’t be solved by money.  Not a single one.