100% y2k-compliant, 93.82% bitch

ok so i got to bed past 2 last night. ian was drunk sleeping on my floor snoring and turning over w/his keys still attached to his belt buckle (he, like his father, seems to have some sort of maintenance-man-like ambition). anyway my alarm goes off at 4:30. yeah, thanks. then it goes off at 6:30....snooze about 40 times until 7:30 at which point the phone rings. so i get that. make another call and get a beep thru. it's a REALLY LOUD fucking fax machine at 8:00 in the morning. wtf? i got up, worked on something or another--- oh yeah online job search-- for hours, then took a shower. went upstairs to find clothing (because i bought a house w/no closet in the master bedroom. yeah, just shoot me ok?) but the other day my closet pole had torn itself from the wall under the weight of 80 million outfits i can't wear. ian fixed the pole yesterday, but the clothes were still on the floor. so i looked in the 2 other closets & the wardrobe i keep my other 40 billion outfits in, but STILL COULDN'T FIND THAT ONE PAIR OF BLUE SLACKS!!! at this point, i began putting up the clôz onto the closet pole even though they are all out of order... and what happens? not only do i NOT find the fucking blue slacks, but the closet pole falls again, ripping the closet wood even worse (on both sides). why? well i'll give you one hint. guess who put up the old broken closet pole instead of the new on that wasn't broken from its hinge or flange or whatever. i mean the pole actually broke out of the thing that gets screwed to the wall (this is a bad sign, for those of you who are not carpenters)... anyway, so fuck. i started grovelling on the floor with all my clothing :c .......... and what do i come up with? nice blue & white houndstooth vesty thing AND cute little skort to match (it looks like a skirt cuz it's rayon). oooowee, so i get a belt from behind the 102 belts i do not use and go downstairs to get dressed. .... wha? no 3rd button on vesty..... shit. go back upstairs to find the button. in one of like ten places i've been keeping "all the buttons that fall off of stuff" so i can sew them all on at once during my "mending" portion of the week, which never occurs in real life. ok, i rummaged around the room and actually found the square jar with the buttons and the button was in there! sewed that on, and found a pair of pantyhose, which i should remark is the same one from when i broke my elbow. i'll tell you that story later. i finally phone tag a few time w/Diane and get to her work to fax my merchant account partner agreement so i can actually make one-tenth of a percent off the website donations i'm about to set up and the fax won't go thru, so i went across the street and got my hair cut while jerry springer blared in the background. [NOTE: you ever notice how getting your hair done makes you look so fucking much better? i think a nose job would do twice the trick!] so i go to the temp place to take a test and the lunch-fill-in receptionist will not let me take the damn test. i tried to explain to her what was going on (already filled out huge long application {by crossing off everything and writing "see resume" haha}) and a lil pregnant lady comes over asking me all these questions. after i answered she took me in a back room (no, not like that) and got me started. told me they wanted about a 50% on the Word test, anything over 60% was good. WELL I GOT A 92% but only typed 89 wpm. bummer. left there, went groc shopping and came home ---OH WAIT the cutest fucking young guy was in the seafood dept. OMG it said $3.99 for tuna steaks on the "special sign" at the front of the store but at the counter it said $8.99. fuck, no tuna. so he's like, can i get you anything else? and i'm like staring at some fish thinking very out loud in my brain,"YOUR PHONE NUMBER" but i very calmly said, "Oh no thanks. I'll be fine." or some equally disguising remark. god he was cute. i'm goin back thar!!!! i wonder if he's 18 *note to self: SHUT UP* -----so then i come home and unload the grocies-- plop down for a nap but have lots o' mushy emotional fantasies instead and finally get up. what? it's 6:40? time to get online. must work on brochure. can't decide what to do. drink like 3 cups of coffee. make crappy brochure, meet lady at church to show her. she doesn't care. need pic of "pitiful man" and handicapped sign. get email from other non-profit client asking me to do stuff to website. [non-profit = non-giving-a-shit-whether-or-not-i-pay-my-mortgage] and i STILL HAVEN'T HEARD ABOUT JERRY TIX. at this point i'd have better luck dialing random phone numbers trying to reach him personally. nobody emails me. i probably need some sleep.....specially since i'm so ahi-less ;c

posted by y2kira @ 9:58 PM