Confessions of a Drunkard?

Oh boy. You know you're exhausted when you drink half a beer and you are fairly zonked. Prolly has to do with the not eating all day, and working a 12 hour day sans break. Don't get me wrong. I would have gone on one if I knew what time it was? But by the time I knew what time it was, I was already having to close the store. Sweet holy Jesus.

I've been officially managing my store now for 2 days? And I rule. Yup. I do. And so do the folks who work for me. I have to say, they are awesome fantastic folk.

I ALSO realized? That I am totally always at work. Today the Audiophile was like:

WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR SCHEDULE AND WHEN DO I GET TO SEE YOU NEXT? I'M TURNING DOWN OFFERS TO HANG OUT BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW WHEN YOU ARE FREE. WHEN ARE YOU FREE?

I was like:

Aw. I feel special. I am off these two days. Lets get together tomorrow too.

In fact? These 2 days will be my first 2 full days off in a row where I will not be working on ANYTHING since I've started. I have told the world that I am not available for any work what-so-ever on either of these 2 days. No bookkeeping. No classes. No tied to the phone for work. Nothing. Sweet hot action (literally?).

So Saturday, I am going to see Plastic Nation World Body Works the Tenth or whatever the fuck that shit is called, at Telus Science Sphere World Consumer Whore Building. Thingy. Thing.

Sweet.

And Seinfeld is the Greatest show. I swear.

Oh. And I get to watch Exorcist The Beginning tomorrow night. Fun.

I'll be sure to post about that experience.

Hey DC, remember when you and Ted and I watched the Exorcist together in your basement? That was sweet fun.

OH. MY. GOD. (and a meme)

I love Bob Dylan.

I think he is tremendously amazing.

I think he is awesome.

He is coming to town.

And I am going to see him.

Live.

Thanks to my mom thinking I kick ass and therefore diserve to go see Mr. Bob Dylan (and with the Audiophile!).

Oh. Hell. Yeah.

Excuse me while I strip down to my skivvies and do the hoola dance.

Oh, and I got my salary offer today for me taking over the management position, and I am happy to say that I am not going to be poor anymore. It basically equates to the last job, and so?

Oh. Hell. Yeah.

Not poor anymore, and Bob Dylan? Hello!

*hoola*

MEME!

Stolen from The Teacher. The first 5 people that respond to this post, I will make a piece of art for you, about you, based on my perception of you etc. And like the Teach, I can't guarantee a quality product, or even accuracy but I'll do my best. And as with all memes, if you respond, you in turn must post this meme on your journal as well. AHA!

Let the games begin.

Oh. And if you fail to comply? Well. Lets just not do that, okay?

*hoola*

Babble.

"There is so much Che in Cuba." Overheard by the Audiophile.
...

Really? Huh. Imagine that.

Things I've said (to myself and others) over the last days:

"Why is your prized posession a leather chair? What the hell is wrong with you? What about your life, or your mind? Are these not your prized posessions?"

"Your mental health is not a game of Jenga. You should not be taking blocks from the middle and putting them on the top, a block from the side and putting it on top - because you are going to topple over, eventually."

"It's hard to want to participate. It's like the drugs have stopped working! This feeling I have, it's the same I had a few years ago. It was scary then, because I didn't know what it meant, and it hurt so much. Now, it hurts, but I know why. I can deal with it better now. Because I can see it for what it is."

"I worry about all my friends safety and health, and worry that something will happen to them that will make them no more, so much to the point it causes me pain. And I realize it's ultimately because I am scared to be left alone."

"In this moment, I am happy. And that is all that really matters, to me."