Sunday, November 21, 2010

Meh... and also, shrug.

I am redefining unmotivated these days, you guys.
I just spent 15 minutes combing a knot out of my hair.  That's how hygenic I've been this weekend.  I may have to shave my head in order to get my hair back under control.

I was putting forth that half-assed effort at grooming because I was inspired for about thirty seconds to run to the store for ingredients to some really delicious (by starving African standards) meal I was going to cook.  I resigned pretty quickly to this here computer chair and a 32 ounce Naked Juice (Blue Machine!), which is basically food anyway.

I've already mentioned my inability to be anything resembling useful at work, which was especially true on Friday.  I downloaded this sound bite to play every time someone in the office/on the phone/anywhere within listening distance did something I deemed Sad Trombone-worthy.  There were approximately 349 instances, give or take a few.  Sometimes I played it just to cut people off who were boring me or asking me if I had gotten something (anything) done.  This may be a testament to my immaturity, but the louder I played it, the funnier it got (to me). 

So of course, after a few hours of the Sad Trombone, I was all, "DUDE.  I have three weeks left at this job.  I should spend all of it creating a soundtrack to this office."  I had visions of adding cartoon noises to all of my coworkers daily tasks and everyone laughing joyously, with the exception of Arch Nemesis Coworker, who would stew quietly at her desk with the occasional heavy sigh because WHYISANYONEEVERHAPPYANYWAY?!  So, I set to work on the internet, and found a really obnoxious Hallelujah Chorus to play when 5 o'clock hit.  I tried to test it out (forgetting my speakers were on full blast), and much to my surprise, sounds of a woman moaning and panting very dramatically started blaring from my desk.  Turns out, I had accidentally clicked "Female Orgasm." 

Story of my life.

Oh, and Steven (and everyone else), this is E:

He told my that I was allowed to introduce him using this picture.  Probably because he thinks it makes him look intimidating/manly.  That's true and all, I guess, but I've never seen him make that face in real life, so I think it's a little dishonest.

Now this?  This is the Eric I know and love:

It's weird introducing boyfriends to blogs.  But at least in the future, when I mention him, you can picture a guy in a really effeminate nightgown and know that that's who I'm talking about when I write of our wild Sexcapades.

(just kidding!)


Monday, November 15, 2010

Procrastination Station! ...all aboard? Nevermind.

My lovely, most wonderfully tender-hearted Blogpals, I write to you from the floor in one of few open spots in the heap of nonsense that is my living room.  Something about these last few weeks has left me completely and utterly disabled when it comes to things like cleaning, or carrying my belongings upstairs, or applying makeup, or fixing my hair... really anything that takes more than 45 seconds to a minute has been eliminated from my daily routine.

I am just walking around in these clouds of uselessness, you see.  And not those clouds.  I haven't smoked pot in years.  These clouds are head clouds, but not the dark rainy kind.  They are enormous white puffs of cotton, and they are probably shaped like ice cream or bunnies, but I haven't taken the time to notice.  I am simply dazed.

I turned in my letter of resignation at work, which is the most exciting thing that I have to tell you (yes, that's as good as it gets).  It's mostly only exciting because I wrote it in my best Old English (very poor), which my supervisor will find humorous, and my human resources manager will find annoying.  Two birds with one stone, you know.

And so the awesome thing about turning in your notice at your job as that every day when you wake up, the usual feelings of misery and empty longings for a slow death are replaced by thoughts like, "AW, HELLZ YEAH.  Only X more days until I never have to go to that horrible, wretched place ever again!"  And that is a wonderful feeling, I am telling you.  The downside is that while you're at work, people keep putting things on your desk, and you keep pushing them around with your ruler, never really accomplishing anything.  And then you spend an inappropriate amount of time leaned back at your desk, dancing to Vampire Weekend and coveting jewelry on Etsy because why not?  In a few weeks this stuff won't matter and what are they going to do, anyway? Fire you?  Probably not.

So, it's been a couple weeks of unusual uselessness on my end.  I just sort of find myself standing places, looking at all the things that need to be done, and my mind wanders and... well, here we are.  I'm supposed to be packing up my belongings now, but you guys, I have accumulated a lot (A LOT!) of things while living in this little apartment, and I just don't know what to do with it all.  Moving with it is not an option.  Maybe you would like to take it off my hands?  I have some studious owls that I purchased at an estate sale.  Or perhaps a clock shaped like a record is more your style?  Maybe some paintings made with love by me and my roommate and a box of wine? A poster with Albert Einstein riding a bicycle?  These are just a few of the treasures I have to offer.

I badly want to tell you where I am going and the cause for all this absent-mindedness, but I am sort of liking keeping secrets.  So, I'm going to keep it up.  It'll be fun, I promise!

We had two couch surfers this weekend, it was... drunk?  Yes.

it got a little weird later in the evening.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Guess what I have?

A plane ticket!
...Guess where to?
(Quiet, Steven!)

I'm coming back soon, you guys.  Promise!