Don’t Worry I’m Not Dead…

just incredibly lazy about updating my blogs. Well besides that, incredibly stressed out with work. I’m having that all too familiar feeling we all have, the “I don’t get paid enough to put up with this bullshit!” feeling. I think it’s more than a dilemma though than a feeling. I’m actually thinking about falling back on my plan of finding a sugar daddy, participating in a medical research study, or becoming a stripper. At the moment though I don’t particularly feel like dealing with men, pretending I have depression, or learning how to walk in 6 inch clear high heels.

Decisions, decisions. Maybe I should have a root beer w/vanilla vodka before finishing my rant.

…okay I’m back, slightly buzzed, and ready to finish my rant. I’m not completely drunk though because I can still type, but obviously you’ve figured that out by now. Also, those people who asked for my advice, I’ll be answering your questions in my next post. I didn’t forget about you!

But anyways, I’d like to propose a toast to all my readers who have fucking horrible jobs! (Taking a pause to drink) I know since the economy sucks, we should be thankful that we even have employment, but when I have to Google, “how to find a sugar daddy” we have a problem. I also have a problem with the hiring lady at Forever 21 asking me if I’m a college graduate when I ask for an application. I’m not going to go to the University of Washington just so I can have the opportunity sell trendy clothes part-time to teeny boppers for minimum wage!

I know we all have to have crappy jobs when we are young. Waiting tables, babysitting, et cetera is just one of those things you have to do. I think it helps build character and it will make you appreciate the day when you (hopefully) land your dream job. Plus bad work stories make the best subjects to gripe about after a couple of drinks! But when does a crappy job cross the line into unacceptable? I don’t know the exact point right now, but subsisting on ramen noodles and handing out countless resumes is starting to look more and more appealing.

My solution to my problems: have a couple more drinks, get someone to drive me to Jack in the Box because breakfast food sounds really good right now, and take some time to think deep thoughts about my options.

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In My Previous Post. . .

I said I would buy pounds upon pounds of makeup glitter as it is the perfect form of nonviolent revenge. Let me explain.

While working at home, I’ve found myself watching way too much television and YouTube. And something I find particualry funny are the Allstate commercials. Something about that man in a suit pretending to be a raccoon or a GPS really makes me laugh.

So does Allstate cover random attacks of glitter? Say a woman breaks into her ex’s apartment for whatever reason and instead of spray painting some profanity everywhere, she gets smart and decides to cover everything in glitter.

As we all know, glitter is the herpes of craft supplies. It will NEVER EVER go away. Imagine the look on your ex’s face when they have to explain to everyone why they are covered head to toe in pink magnificent sparkling glitter!

A perfect form of nonviolent revenge!

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Dear Unemployment,

I’m so delighted you’re gone I can hardly describe the feeling. You were like the annoying obnoxious friend that asks to sleep on your couch for a few days and ends up staying for months. You really overstayed your welcome Unemployment. I will not have fond memories of taking the bus to scour the city for jobs and feeling like a loser when I came home empty handed.

You left at the perfect time too. I was seriously considering my backup options of either participating in a clinical research study or becoming a stripper. I would prefer a Sugar Daddy, but my searching has proved unsuccessful.

In the meantime I will no longer have to subsist off of Ramen noodles :) And maybe, just maybe, I can have this mythical thing called a savings account.

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Dear Unemployment,

You are something I am way too familar wth, like the sticky note in the bathroom tht reminds me I need to shave the back of my legs.

I fill out repetitive applications and still you don't reply. Day after day I edit my resume and watch bad reruns of the Tyra Banks' Show. As you can tell, my sanity is frail.

I'm not asking for much. Hand me a spatula, I'll flip burgers. I'm getting desperate here. I'm a Capricorn so you know I have a love of money!

I do have a confession though. . . I'm considering participating in a medical research study. . . or becoming a stripper (which ever is the shorter drive). The money would be decent and the pills would be abundant. Or maybe I could find a sugar daddy! I seem to attract older men.

I will forever have fond memories of being too poor for $1 Bud Light drafts and eaing ramen noodles every night. But in all honesty, I hope you go the fuck away and never come back.

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