I like watching the puddles gather ra-a-ain
Gosh.
I am not very good at this, am I.
It's December now, and my chances for getting an entry in AT ALL this year are shrinking daily, and I can't even think of what to write. I mean, you know, I did some things, I guess, and went to some places, and moved home again, and quit the hell out of Target. I don't know how to sum up a whole missed year and a half and I can't even think of anything in particular except poop jokes and the trials and tribulations of helping people move, so I think I won't try much. I guess I sprained my ankle really hardcore the summer before last and I still don't have quite a perfect range of movement back. I made a bacon-wrapped turkey. I visited Jayme and Alex in Chicago in August and fell in love with a hot dog place. Which, for me, is in no way unreasonable. It's a good hot dog place. Oh geez, wait...and they got married last year. It was a neat wedding. I helped a little. I don't think I wrote about it. Where the hell did Laura Ingalls Wilder find all that free time and attention span? I miss everything.
Except hot dogs! I always remember hot dogs.
So, now I'm looking forward to spending my twenty-fifth birthday unemployed and living in my parents' basement, which, I am fairly certain, does not even remotely fit into the astronaut plans I had as a child. This makes it all the more inexplicable that I've also started dating a guy. His name is Layne. I like him quite a bit. He also has to pay for everything and drive me everywhere because I am a total catch who lives at home and is unemployed and doesn't have a license. I'm pretty sure he's getting a raw deal on this one, but maybe he won't catch on to that too quickly? Hopefully? I'd give my eyeteeth for a job at this point, which would be pretty counterproductive because then I'd have a crazy looking smile and that'd hurt my customer service abilities. I'd have to work in a lumber yard or something and never smile at anybody, ever. I don't really see myself as being cut out for the lumber yard life. Long story short, I would like a job, but would also like to keep my teeth. I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore.
I am not very good at this, am I.
It's December now, and my chances for getting an entry in AT ALL this year are shrinking daily, and I can't even think of what to write. I mean, you know, I did some things, I guess, and went to some places, and moved home again, and quit the hell out of Target. I don't know how to sum up a whole missed year and a half and I can't even think of anything in particular except poop jokes and the trials and tribulations of helping people move, so I think I won't try much. I guess I sprained my ankle really hardcore the summer before last and I still don't have quite a perfect range of movement back. I made a bacon-wrapped turkey. I visited Jayme and Alex in Chicago in August and fell in love with a hot dog place. Which, for me, is in no way unreasonable. It's a good hot dog place. Oh geez, wait...and they got married last year. It was a neat wedding. I helped a little. I don't think I wrote about it. Where the hell did Laura Ingalls Wilder find all that free time and attention span? I miss everything.
Except hot dogs! I always remember hot dogs.
So, now I'm looking forward to spending my twenty-fifth birthday unemployed and living in my parents' basement, which, I am fairly certain, does not even remotely fit into the astronaut plans I had as a child. This makes it all the more inexplicable that I've also started dating a guy. His name is Layne. I like him quite a bit. He also has to pay for everything and drive me everywhere because I am a total catch who lives at home and is unemployed and doesn't have a license. I'm pretty sure he's getting a raw deal on this one, but maybe he won't catch on to that too quickly? Hopefully? I'd give my eyeteeth for a job at this point, which would be pretty counterproductive because then I'd have a crazy looking smile and that'd hurt my customer service abilities. I'd have to work in a lumber yard or something and never smile at anybody, ever. I don't really see myself as being cut out for the lumber yard life. Long story short, I would like a job, but would also like to keep my teeth. I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore.
posted by Betsi at 9:10 PM
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