My week has been so bad it’s actually gone the other way and is now awesome. I’m not sure why my mood has remained buoyant despite the load of bull I’ve been dealing with, but I’m actually in a great mood. All the stuff that’s happened is on the minor end of the tragedy spectrum, so consequently in list form, it’s fantastic! This week:
- My AC broke.
- A dustpan fell off the wall and hit me in the head.
- I managed to destroy the company website on my lunch break (….I did fix it, eventually).
- I had a flat tire.
- …twice. (Different tires.)
- When tossing a paper towel into the trashcan, I missed. This isn’t surprising because I don’t have game. I then leaned over to pick up the paper towel and put it in the trashcan only to lose my balance (?!?) and fall, knocking my head against the computer and potentially damaging the fan inside. I don’t know, it’s making an angry whirring noise. Also, I have a lump on my head.
- A little kid ran into me at the library and took a tumble. Poor thing! But he looked at me like I was Satan and waaaailed and I felt awful.
- Scratched the floor something awful when moving furniture. It’s time to buy a new rug!
- Scalded myself on the popcorn maker.
- I have a doctor’s appointment. For women’s troubles. Oooooh.
- Got cable and internet installed in my apartment. Both didn’t work on Day One. Got them fixed. Now the DVR isn’t working.
What you need to understand is that all of these things happened in TWO DAYS. TWO.
Surely I’m good now. Right? RIGHT?
Someone asked me what I was going to do when I finally move out of my parents’ house and into my own apartment. Now that that day is approaching, I’m formulating my plans. All the following will happen on the first Friday I am there:
- Have Cheetos and wine for dinner.
- Have cowboy shots of tequila for dessert.
- Try to do Wii yoga.
- Acquire mysterious and unexplainable bruises from the drunken Wii yoga.
- Put on “Drive” and talk to Ryan Gosling’s ass the entire movie.
- Start to build Lego Hogwarts. And then stop after one turret. And leave the Legos out without picking up after myself.
- Decide to learn Japanese. Look up filthy Japanese phrases and text them to random numbers in my cell.
- Shower until I use up all the hot water because HAHAHAHA I OWE YOU PEOPLE NOTHING.
- Wander around naked a while.
- Talk to my cats in stupid voices.
- Attempt to change my name on Facebook to “Whitney McCatlady”.
- Get lost on Facebook for 30 minutes.
- Pass out.
- Wake up at 2am wondering why the hell Drive is on.
I think it’s good to have ambitions.
I work out sporadically. I’m told that my lack of routine is a hindrance toward progress, but since working out is strictly based on the factors of guilt, boredom, and whether or not I can fit into my “average day” pants, workouts simply aren’t something that happens with any regularity. For those of you wondering what I mean by “average day” pants, here is a brief caveat: I have about three times too many pants in my closet. One-third of them are too little, ranging from “could lose 5 pounds” to “sausage casing tight”. One-third of them are too big for those days of lounging around or for days I feel huge. And one-third of them are just right. This Goldilocksian approach to fashion has made for a bursting closet, but there’s something optimistic about staring at a size 6 and going “I could probably… feasibly… get into that… if I took out my ribcage and ate nothing but leeks…” Continue reading
Job interviews are a particularly dazzling example of why I shouldn’t be allowed to interact with other people. Nearly everyone hates them, even the ones doing the interviewing, and they’re pretty much 99% verbal bullshit and 1% dressing like you will never actually dress for the job, but for some reason, they remain a requirement. Ostensibly, it’s to ensure that the job candidate isn’t the type to stir up trouble, has the right attitude, and doesn’t pick their nose like it’s a goldmine. I get that. The problem is, I’m one of those people that warms up to people slooooowly. It takes time for me to get out of “pat answer time” into “actual person mode”. And while I can deliver those pat answers like a pro (“An example of a time in my past job that I used problem-solving skills? Oh, let me count the ways!”), I get into major trouble when the interviewer deviates from the expected set of questions. I also sometimes just blow the entire thing like a two-dollar hooker. For example: Continue reading