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Thursday, May. 19, 2005 / 7:29 p.m. ~Quick Nonsensical Ramble~ I've got just under 20 minutes before my Thai Chicken pizza is ready, and the finale of "CSI" (yes, yes, Quentin Tarantino-directed episode at that) is on in 30, so this is as good a time as any. I don't drink a lot of alcohol, we all know this, maybe a beer or two when out with friends, when I have friends, if I have friends, maybe a bottle of wine at home, sitting on the counter open, with cool hand-turned wooden cork topper thingie stuffed in the top for weeks or months until I finally finish it, knowing it's too old really, but that's about it. And if it's more than that, well, I get wasted. Small constitution, as 'they' say. But today was crazy wack, so I'm having a Jack and Cream, yes folks, a bourbon and cream soda, and it's surprisingly very good. If I had a bottle of wine, I'd drink a glass, but I finished off the last very old open bottle on Tuesday, and that is when my interview was, despite my telling the recruiter 'yesterday' this, and 'yesterday' that, before finally asking, "Was that yesterday?", and feeling like a total space cadet. Do people still use that expression, space cadet? It's early Alzheimer's, I've decided. And I need to consider adopting some adult children to take care of me in my old age, because I think it's coming sooner than I thought. Picture Fred Sanford clutching his heart, I'm clutching my brain, this is it, "I'm losing my mind, I can't remember a thing!". Reemployment services orientation today, three more seminars scheduled, unemployment benefits amounting to $7.50 an hour, which, with 'retention' payment, I can live off, I can be happy, sort of, for now, and I applied for THREE jobs at a local university today, online, and it wasn't easy, but I did it (fucking online applications are just fucked), and I want any of the three, I mean I really do. One pays really well too, the other two I have no idea. So, I sit and get all psyched, and try to remember all the things I'm forgetting, when the damned cell phone starts up with the damned cicadas, and I recognize the number, and it's the recruiter, and I don't answer!!! I don't! And she calls my land line, and I'm online, so the CallWave internet answering machine kicks in, and she's left two messages, so I listen, I have to, and I call her back, because I got a second interview. And ick, and yuck, and well, it's good money, but I tell her, thinking the first interview was yesterday, which I now realize it was indeed so NOT, that I never thought I'd hear anything back, and la dee daaaaa. 2nd interview. Whoopee. And so much is going on in the world, and the media issue, and the PBS intrusion, and Bill Moyers, and the Newsweek thing, and the government as mafia thing, and this filibuster thing, and I love that word, filibuster, and there are people trying to turn things around, and maybe it won't go any farther than this after all, and I ordered a mug with the bill of rights on it, and when you fill it with hot liquid most of them disappear. I love it, I had to have it, I collect mugs, remember? No, I cannot remember a thing. Someone suggests it's stress induced. I wonder. I am getting old, take care of me? Someone? No, no, no, I am fine. And Jack and Cream is surprisingly good, but one is all I need. I need to relaaaaaaaaax, please. Okay please. It has been a chockfull day, and there's more, like the Burger King drive-thru employee yelling at me through that damned speaker, screaming at me because I couldn't understand what the fuck she was saying, and so I did NOT try the giant egg and meats sandwich I really was prepared to try. 47 grams of fat? So what? Once in a lifetime? Fine. Have you seen me? Pitifully skinny. Though I saw someone thinner today, and I thought, oh my god, she is too skinny, that is just awful, but I bit my tongue as I said it, and slapped myself too, stop it, stop it stop it, you are even worse, says I, no, no, she is really skinny, I'm just thin. I wanted that sandwich. But I will not be abused in order to get it. Pizza has five minutes, I am cutting this off. Do things really go better with Coke? Does Coke manufacture a cream soda? They need to. Cost of the War in Iraq
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