1:18 p.m. - Wednesday, Jun. 23, 2004
I ain't laughing, though. I ain't laughing at nothin'. I have PMS. I am just barely hanging on to my sanity.
Yesterday I applied for the graveyard-shift position in the Weird Processing Department, but I specified that I wanted it only part-time, and they told me they couldn't hire me part-time. So no dice. I just wanted to work part-time, create some spare time in which to have my mid-life crisis, and REST because I am freaking TIRED. That's what I told Boss #1, when I mentioned that I had applied for the position. He said it's OK with him if I try to get a job-share thing going so I only work part-time up here. But now I want to stick around full-time until I've milked my health insurance for all it's worth.
Speaking of which, I am trying to work up the energy to call a gynecologist, because I think my anemia is caused by heavy periods, and I'm going to have that colonoscopy just to prove to my doctor that he's WRONG.
In crass-materialism news, on Sunday I finally decided to go to Best Buy and use up the $250 gift card that Boss #1 gave me last Xmas. I bought — oh joy! — a little TV/DVD player for $169. Only I haven't tried it yet to see if it actually works. This is a momentous event for me because up to this point I have never had DVD capabilities.
Also bought a new toaster. My old one still sorta worked, but it was about 20 years old and ugly and I was SICK of it.
Also bought a cheap boom-box so I could listen to CDs while I'm working in the yard. Brought it home, weeded the garden and flowers beds while listening to Le Nozze di Figaro. 3 hours, 28 minutes and 33 seconds. You might ask, "Geez, Lily, why didn't you just use your Discman and save the $39.99?" to which I would respond, "Who the hell asked you?" In all seriousness, though, (a) I don't like being cut off from the world by having earphones on when I'm outside, and (b) I have seen too many people make complete asses of themselves by singing along to music that only they can hear. I can't resist singing along to Figaro; with the boombox, at least, my voice will be somewhat drowned out, in case any witnesses should stray into hearing distance.
Stupid rambling entry. That's what happens when I get caught up in recording events that occur in the space/time matrix, rather than my timeless reflections on how wacko you all are. "You all" meaning the human race.