Stream of consciousness

Random thoughts:

getting a little piece of garlic stuck in your tooth and working it out with your tongue is much like taking some sort of garlic breath infuser treatment. You’ve got to work really hard to undo that.

That Fitzgerald quote, “In the real dark night of the soul it is always three o’clock in the morning, day after day” takes on a whole new meaning when you’re awake at three o’clock in the morning.

I did not win the lottery again today. Honestly, a poor girl’s heart can only stand but so much.

Since my time at Bankrupt Inc. is coming to a close, I have put myself out on the proverbial market. Rather than worrying about the normal things one worries about when trying to secure gainful employment (ie. resume, skills, etc.), I am concerned about the following, because it’s every so much more productive to worry about trivial stuff that doesn’t matter.

I am not, repeat, am NOT, high maintenance enough to get regular pedicures. However, you might notice that my toenails are perfect. It’s a bonding activity with me and my mom, and we go every two weeks if we can afford it. There are currently flowers on my toes because the girl at the shop asked me so very nicely if I wanted flowers, and I couldn’t say no. Because I am a pedicure pushover. And, I’m wearing open-toed shoes because it’s summer, and I hope that is appropriate. Because my only closed-toed shoes right now are sneakers and Doc Martens. And for some reason I thought red Chucks would make it look like I wasn’t trying hard enough.

I blush a lot. Sometimes when I blush I stay blushed for, like, 10 whole minutes. I look like a tomato, and I’m sorry. Sometimes I blush because I’ve been blushing for so long. I get embarrassed by the blushing.

I have very little fashion sense, but if I’m going to someone’s office to meet them, or meeting somebody out for lunch? Trust me, I’ve tried. As much as I can try without waving a bunch of red flags around this place. If I need to look nicer than this I can, because my mom lives nearby and is always willing to pick out an outfit for me.
**it occurs to me that if any potential employers read this they will now be thinking, “The dumb girl has to have her mother dress her.” Not true. Many people take fashion advice from TV, magazines, friends, etc. I take fashion advice from my mom. She’s my hero.
**Also, it isn’t really like the guys I work for would have a problem with me going for an interview or something, but it’s not good for morale with my coworkers. I’m sensitive to that. Both because I care about people and because around here you’re liable to get your head bitten off. In a nice way, of course (not really, no, not nice).

I don’t have poison ivy. I look like this all the time. It’s not contagious, it’s psoriasis, and I hope it doesn’t creep anybody out too badly to hire me. Sometimes it’s better than others, and I never scratch in public. Hey, if LeAnn Rimes can admit it, so can I.

I may be a little awkward at first, but I am super conscientious and hardworking, and I eventually grow on people. I mean, besides that one girl at my current job that hates my guts, most people find me very pleasant to be around. My mom thinks I’m the bomb.

I can’t lie to you, Interwebs. This economy is still pretty sucky, and it’s going to be a while before things turn around. Finding a job in this state is tough, and I AM actually worried about my skills, my creds, my chances. There is one thing in particular that I pretty much consider a dream job, so I’m trying not to get my hopes up so’s they don’t get squashed like little buggies. So I worry if I’m good enough.

But I also worry about what kind of impression my toes make. I’m a complicated woman, Internet. You knew that when you got into this relationship. Wish me luck.

Amazing that it’s been a whole week

A whole week since my last post. Huh. I had a great idea and lost it midday today amongst the searing, mind-numbing pain of a terrible migraine (fun!) and am pretty much writing something just to write something. Which is useless, yet I do it anyway.

In more exciting news, I think I’ve come up with an idea for a cool niche blog that can be a central hub of online activity and possibly make me independently wealthy. Or will at least pay my electric bill and support my kitchy t-shirt habit. So yeah, I’ll get around to that someday.

As for fun stuff that happened over the last week, I guess I tweeted about it, so you can check out my tweets at the right, if you’re not an active tweeter yourself. As for me, the jury is still out. It is a LOT of fun right now, and I could see it either becoming a way of life or something that I abandon because it’s too high-maintenance.

I have several freelance pieces to write, plus a lot of really old carpet to pull up, boxes to pack, trim to paint, etc. Busy, but that’s good because of idle hands being the devil’s something or another.

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Sadly, nobody seems to want to dance this morning, and when I randomly asked one of the Boss-Type Coworkers if they knew the song “Duke of Earl” he just sort of looked at me funny.

I did turn up my little computer speakers when “Tales of Brave Ulysses” came on, in case someone wanted to enter into some heady discourse on whether or not the lyrics were spurned by an interest in Greek mythology, or just a whole lot of acid. No takers, and my mischievous tendencies are waning.

And it is embarrassing when someone walks into your cube while “Darling Nikki” is playing. I don’t care what you say.

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