Before the Steelers won the Super Bowl, I had several heart attacks in the first half. Then I saw The Rolling Stones come out and I realized that no matter how bad it got in the second half, I still wouldn't be Mick Jagger. It was reassuring, kind of like the Michael Jackson picture on the fridge.
I started my new job on Monday and I really like it. Most of the people I worked with at the credit bureau (my CBC girlies are excluded from this statement, of course) seemed to just be paper cut-outs of themselves. Although unemployment sucked more ass than Rick Santorum, (and that is a lot of ass-sucking) I'm glad I got out of that place. I really like the new job. The people are all really friendly and smart, AND I can wear jeans every day. I don't know how to express the deep joy I feel every time I say that. It's like starting every day with an orgasm of comfort. I might even opt to stay and work there over going to Japan. (If I am even offered that job.) We'll see what happens.
Mom is in Alexandria until Monday visiting Mo. We got a package from her ex-boyfriend yesterday. It wasn't ticking, so I called Mom and then opened it. It was a CD player. What the hell. He also included fucking NOTES that he took while they spoke on the phone. It's a goddamn tome. It needs chapters. The damn papers all spilled out of the envelope, and what's the first thing I see? Some notes from a conversation they apparently had about the female orgasm. That was officially the last thing I ever needed to see. I'd rather see my own autopsy report than anything alluding to orgasms my mother may or may not be having.
Yesterday, I killed a giant centipede that was chilling out next to my college diploma. This means war, you bastards.