tally it up

so i have saran wrap around my head to keep me from dripping highlight "enhancer" on the keyboard. i'm headed out to the real OC in less than 48 hours. i'm hungry. i need to dig through the vast storage in my closets and find those articles of clothing suitable for super-50 degree weather. i have a rash nearly everywhere, and will have to wear a halter top on friday at the ceremony so i can match all the other bridesmaids. yeesh.
i need to do laundry, cause my gym pants smell like butt and the body mist i sprayed on them to cover the butt. so now they smell like "gap pink butt." i'm popular at my gym.
i haven't been paid in 3 weeks. i have $4 and the laundry card machine only takes $5 and up. today i tried campbell's "soup at hand," which i could describle as "ass in a can." i got one of the treadmills that slips under your feet when i did my run today, so i was stinky *and* clumsy.
but yesterday was a good day, full of family and sunshine, a balls-cold walk on the beach collecting seashells at sunset. many mini eggs were sacrificed to the sucrose gnomes, and my mems sent me a teeny tiny furry bunny rabbit, which i carried around in my pocket all day. and so it goes.

all grown up and corporate

so, nearing the end of my first week on an adult job. been good; i got all orientated and had so much paperwork thrown at me, i'm not sure for which organs i just signed my rights away, but i can tell you my employee id number backwards. i wore grown-up pants for 3 days in a row, with non-sneakers, and even carried a purse and a new corporate logo bag (free!)

highlights: i have my own corner *big* desk, with a WINDOW on the ground floor through which i can see cars, people, and framingham wildlife. i even know when it's light and dark out. i have my own phone and new computar; no paperclip shutdown necessary. i got lots of free sharpies and a company pen that lights up neon green upon my command. tomrrow i get new lab notebooks. i might even get business cards! [those of you who know me well are aware that the above is not sarcastic; i really am that easily entertained. just ask kz about the other night when i found out that the little mini pocket on the front of my new cherry-print pajama pants was the perfect size for animal crackers. i was ecstatic for half an hour as i toted my snacks about the apartment.]

and, having been trained on 34 of them since yesterday morning, i can tell you that an SOP is definitely not an insult referring to your mom.

shopping: never again.

day 2 of semi-week off, which is no longer of indeterminate length.

i start work on monday. yay: money, and soon. increased feeling of self-worth. boo: still tired. house still messy. no paper writing yet.

treadmill: check. best part of my day. then i went to the mall (dramatic organ music, hounds howl, couples snuggle closer). i was determined to find a stupid outfit for the wedding in like 2 weeks. i went to every damn store, many whose existance had escaped my notice until today (cache? rave? nyc & co? it's like the mold in my bathroom, appearing overnight). uttered the same tired phrase over and over again..."i need something specific for a wedding. a v-neck tank top that ties behind your neck. a halter top? is that what kids call them these days? fine. that, in black, to go, now." it took me 4 damn hours and i ended up buying something that is technically a bathing suit. so if anyone throws wine at me during the reception, i'm totally covered.

and the whole time, salespeople kept staring at my midsection. boobs are one thing, i get it, i look at boobs too. but i wanted to be like, no dude i'm not pregnant, that's my fat and i affectionately call it my burrito. he can't talk, he makes it difficult to buy jeans, and i'm a little smarter than he is, so look at me instead.

afterwards, vacuuming and breaking down like 10 boxes while cleaning the dining room was downright fun.

domestimacated

day 1 of my semi-week off. it may end up being more than a week off, if the state of NH doesn't expedite its head out of its ass and get my nonexistant criminal record back to my prospective employer. fuckers.

goals for the week: clean entire apartment, and unpack the 50% of moving boxes which have been doubling as end tables, nintendo supporters, clothes depositories, and mail sorters for the past 8 months. holy shit, 8 months? yeah.

write my paper from "the neuroscience project" from my last job, even though all my data is in LA and i use an abdominal stability ball as a chair for the computer. should be fun.

and go to the gym every day, strive to begin ramping up to the desired 2 miles a day on the treadmill (i mean it, it's no metaphor for my life and its pursuits or anything cheeky like that).

somehow find a getup similar to the other bridesmaids' for my best friend's wedding in like, 2 weeks. with no money. yay! i *heart* shopping for things i can't find with no cash and no motivation! is this what it's like to be male?

so today i went to the gym. i finished a bodice-buster romance my mom lent me (it was wonder bread, on the fictional fiber scale). i went to trader joe's, where they have discontinued dried strawberries. UNACCEPTABLE. the remaining stock is being held for me in burlington. then i went to shaw's. and somewhere in there i bought carrot juice.

and then i cleaned the bathroom, noticing a pinkish ring of scuzz around the faucet fixture. it reminded me of back in the day when i got reamed by my ex that i was letting mold grow in the bathroom like a welfare person. i pointed out that i am the whitest bitch on the block and i haven't set foot in a public school since age 5, so clearly this is bourgeois mold. i must be right. tubophile and sinkophile organisms alike, come descend upon my house.

and drink my carrot juice.

you should move to central mass if you:

-want to have more offspring than teeth in your 20's

-have always dreamt of purchasing a ski-doo

-love rap even though you've never seen a negro 'in person'

-think having a hemi entitles you to tailgate small vehicles

-enjoy wearing the same sweatshirt and track pants to work each day

-think scraggly nascar moustaches are cute

-consider sandwiches on anything other than white bread 'highfalutin'

-realize choosing the 'manager's special' at dunkin donuts is the zenith of spontaniety in your day

gainful employment

and by 'gainful,' i don't mean the mass of peanut butter filled pretzels or terra chips i just washed down with whole milk. (menstrual gnomes are lining up at the entrance to the mines, ready with their pick-axes).
i mean that i got a job, and i actually want it, and i'm going to take it. next friday will be my last day inhaling acetonitrile fumes, and i'm taking the following week off to write my paper from my last job. and clean the house.
and maybe now that i'm getting a 48% raise over what i've made since college (excepting the last month at the gulag; once you subtract pain and suffering, excess is moot), i could balance my freaking checkbook. or at least buy new things.
it's nice to take a break from the scientific breadline. i'll be back in a few years anyway when i pony up for my phd and make babies. until then, all my $$ are belong to me.