Iím currently consuming a bag of popcorn of indeterminate age. I keep taking a bite and thinking it tastes a bit stale, then thinking nah, itís all right. This process will repeat until the entire bag has been eaten. Nausea will follow.
Itís a bad sign when you sit and stare at the computer screen for 20 minutes trying to think of something to write.
Not even any Dullardís tales today. I was there for three hours last night. At 6:02, I had one customer. He bought a pair of $25 pants. That was it for the night. There were NO customers in the store. None. Bunch of bored ass employees standing around. The torrential rain, wind and lightening could have been part of the reason for the lack of customers. Back there again tonight. And Wednesday. And Thursday. Lather, rinse, repeat.
My roommate is going out of town in two weeks. That means I can sit around watching Laguna Beach and eating nacho cheese right out of the can as cold recycled air washes over me. Hey, itís Florida in August, I have to set reasonable goals.
Finished reading ďThe Pleasure of My CompanyĒ by Steve Martin. Quick, easy read. Sure, Iíll recommend it, why not. He wrote one of my favorite books, ďShopgirlĒ.
I am thinking of ways to resign from my job. I would like to go out in a blaze of glory, with security guards escorting me from the building as I kick and scream, promising it wonít be the last anyone hears of me. I think I might be fired when my boss returns next Monday so maybe I can have one of those ďyou canít fire me, I quit!Ē type of moments. Again, reasonable goals.
Iím still waiting on that apology from him. See now that would be an unreasonable goal.
Ok, stale popcorn is awaiting me.
2005-08-09 at 2:56 p.m.