"If it wasn't work, they wouldn't call it work. They'd call it super-wonderful, crazy-fun time! Or skippedydoo!"

[credit to elizabeth. or red foreman. take your pick.]

i worked 12.5 hours today.

around 3pm i assumed i would end up attempting to puncture my wrists with paper parasols.

i got a second wind and made it out alive.

there should be a class that people have to take regarding tipping. five dollars on a 48 dollar bill that you had a 50 dollar gift certificate for is just incorrect.

at least no one yells at me anymore. no matter how annoyed i get, i can always fall back on that. i enjoy people coming in that, 99% of the time, start off in a good mood. they want to be where i work. that was for sure not the case at my last job.

i have the day off tomorrow. i am very excited. part of me wants to actually do something with my life, but a bigger part wants to take advantage of my lack of actual things to do and sit around doing nothing. reading. taking accidental cat naps while watching big love on dvd. reading more. thinking about going outside to run, but watching more tv instead. i love those days and feel as though sometimes they are completely necessary for survival.

i hope i don't have to work 12 hours again. ever. i feel like a need a bath.

see you on the flip side.

fozzie.

my dog is old. he's fat and obsessed with food. he is allergic to almost everything under the sun and has to eat special kangaroo food or dog bisquits baked in a special dog bakery. he has fatty tumors, and a constant ear infection. he's more work than i hope my children are.

i wish he was smaller, so i could snuggle with him, but i more so wish he wasn't so old. he's 12 now, and it makes me sad to think that someday i won't be able to talk to him, or laugh at his silliness.

noone really gets to see the real foz because he's a nut job. he'll bark at you forever, and he hates it when people leave. so much so that if you turn your back on him and walk toward the door, he will most likely ferociously bark and jump toward you.


but he gives family hugs, and bounds around the house like an old man. he makes me smile when he's not in a food coma.



here's to pets of all kinds and their imperfections. here's to their unconditional nature.

swing life away.

am i loud and clear or am i breaking up
am i still your charm or am i just bad luck
are we getting closer or we just getting more lost

i'll show you mine if you show me yours first
let's compare scars - i'll tell you whose is worse
let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words

we live on front porches and swing life away
we get by just fine here on minimum wage
if love is a labor I'll slave 'til the end
i won't cross these streets until you hold my hand



~rise against. [acoustic version, if you must know.]