Mashed Potatoes as Punchline (in shades of blue and white)

2003-11-17 - 9:08 a.m.

So, the outrageously expensive apartment with canine possibilities has been rented to someone else, which is really a good thing, because I really wouldn't have been able to afford it. This diary would have very quickly been filled up with repetative entries about how I was being forced to eat canned dog food for my protein.

And I would just like to reiterate how much yesterday completely blew chunks. It wasn't a bad day like some other bad days I've had (like, say, my abysmal review, or, maybe, the break up), but it was pretty icky. If I had to choose to live that day over again, I would politely refuse.

Here is yesterday in brief:

Got to work late.

Had a lot of work to do.

Discovered that I had to work the next day, and because I had misread the schedule originally that meant I had to cancel some plans to hang out with people.

Had a really, really awful customer who called me a "cunt."

Had a few less-awful customers who did not call me a cunt, but still sucked.

Missed the bus home so I had to wait an extra 20 minutes while I had to pee.

Bought a DVD to make myself feel better, but discovered that, for some bizarre insane reason, DVD is not compatable with my DVD player and so I will never be able to watch that movie on DVD ever (and it was a good movie that I wanted to own and love and cherish (28 Days Later, if anyone's interested)).

Slept poorly.

So, today will almost certainly be better, unless someone dies. I hope no one dies.

I'm also, temporarily of course, going through an extreme crisis as a writer, in which I'm nearly convinced that I have no talent, that I'm wasting my time, and that I should take up mashed-potato-sculpting instead if I want any hope of success.

On the bright side, I have a dreamy picture of Colin Firth pasted to my computer at work, and Colin Firth makes everything better. Mmm...dreamy Colin Firth.

Cheers,

The Magus

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