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Thursday, Dec. 19, 2002 / 11:59 p.m. ~It's Really Friday~ I am SO cheating! This is the first time I've ever adjusted the date of an entry, but I wanted to get this in as today, not tomorrow, let's not let it be tomorrow yet, okay??? I need more hours in each day. There is not enough time. I hate working. That reminds me, Sandy asked me at dinner last Saturday what sort of job would be my ideal job, and of course I automatically thought maybe he has connections, I need to watch how I answer. I went the vanilla route, told him I want the job in Entertainment Media, particularly Publishing, as Editor, or Proofreader, or Editorial Assistant, or printing press operator, or printing press cleaner, or toilet cleaner, or whatever. Or Production Assistant at a Turner Channel, pick a channel, any channel, TCM, Cartoon Network, CNN, CNN Headline (no, they're EVIL over there, scratch that.... although.... if I got IN...... maybe I could shake things up, you know, a little civil disobed____...cut that off right there!). Anyway. Work takes too much time. Eight hours a day. That's far too many. Way too many. Too much. Too long. So I'm really, really tired. I wake up every morning and the first thing I think is, "I'm TIRED!" That's not fun. I did the Farmer's Market thing after work, only spent $70something. Good stuff, I even bought little baby zucchinis, because they're so CUTE! So I'm a sucker for immature vegetables, I can't help it. I like everything young, I guess. Baby shiitakes too, and I have no idea why. I had no idea how much they cost, either, until I came home and looked at the receipt hours after putting everything away. Expensive. More than buying them in bulk. Live and learn. I like splurging on myself, especially when it comes to food. I'm wearing old, tattered, hand me down clothes, my shoes are scuffed and worn, but I spend money on calendars and gourmet food. Priorities, that's what it's all about. There is a lot to write about, but I'm spent. Damned shame. Remind me to write about my meeting with the Site Manager. He put me at ease, I like him, he listened to me, he let me make my point, three times at least. I told him I wanted to make sure I said it right, that I presented it as best I could. And it's not about what you think, it's about time off without pay, against our will. Forced time off. As in Christmas Eve, departmental shutdowns, etc. He's going to 'chew on it', and I believe him. I'm so proud of me! I've got to find my RealAstrology horoscope, give me a second.... oh, wait, it's FreeWillAstrology now, forgot. Goes to show you I'm Breszny old school. Anyway, I loved this one line from my horoscope for this week: "Here, then, are my suggestions about what holiday gifts you should give yourself: 1. a bumper sticker that reads, "I am no longer looking for the perfect partner. I am my own perfect partner."..." It goes on, or he goes on, but that was the part I liked. It's SO true. He says I need to have more fun in my sexual and intimate relationships in the coming year. Unh huh. WHAT sexual and intimate relationships? I am my own perfect partner, remember? Maybe I'm going to masturbate like a monkey in 2003. On that note, I'm Audi. Herewith, in its entirety, thank you, Rob: "Happy Holy Daze, Aries! I predict that you will be more lighthearted about love in 2003. I see you taking yourself less seriously as you seek riper versions of romance and intimacy. I envision you injecting more humor into your sexual experiences. Here, then, are my suggestions about what holiday gifts you should give yourself: 1. a bumper sticker that reads, "I am no longer looking for the perfect partner. I am my own perfect partner." 2. Steve Penny's booklet, "How To Have Great Laughing Sex." 3. White boxers or silk panties on which you've used a felt-tip marker to write a goofy prayer or love spell." Cost of the War in Iraq
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