"Copy/Paste" Is the Blogger's Friend

I've already posted this as a Myspace bulletin, so forgive me for being too lazy to re-word it:

So, after a really shitty summer of trying to find a new job after being shit-canned in March, I accepted a position as a dental assistant. It pays well, I love the work, and might I say I'm one sexy bitch in my scrubs. Of course, after sending my rèsumé out to every place with a payroll within 50 miles and getting absolutely no bites, I suddenly get five different job offers after accepting this one. Of course.

I'm looking forward to the day I go to the store or something after work and somebody collapses. All eyes will turn to me, The Man in the Medical Uniform. I'll step up proudly and say, "Um, sorry. I'm just a dental assistant... want me to floss him?" And then I'll remember I don't even have any floss on me, and we'll all share a big laugh, except maybe the guy on the floor. Well, he still might join in the big laugh, if he's still conscious at that point, because who can resist the siren call of the "wah wah waaaaaaah?"

Yay for financial solvency! I'm sure they're doing the happy dance at my bank right now.

True Confession Time

I realized something today when Dido's song "White Flag" came on the radio.  The lyrics to the chorus actually go:

"I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender"

I mention this only because my brain, which lives a wonderful, secret life all its own, had apparently decided the lyrics go, "And I won't poke my eyes out and surrender," and I never noticed this until I found myself singing along with the eyeball lyrics.

I'm not sure how long this has been going on, but I do think I like my version better.

R. I. P.

Ben died today.  Roo died yesterday.

I'm not taking it well.

March In a Nutshell

March 2 - Got fired.  Signed up for unemployment; updated resumé.

March 3 - Zeek died after long period of illness.

March 5-14 - Apply at various locations; drop resumé off with hospital and local doctors' offices.  Will not even consider working at factory; name is not Norma Rae.

March 14 - Interview with local hospital for billing staff position; interview goes extremely well.

March 16 - Came down with flu; last cigarette smoked on this date.

March 18 - Hospitalized in Critical Care Unit with flu; almost die.  From flu.  It's a goddamn Stephen King novel.

March 23 - Discharged from hospital; placed on home oxygen.  Decide to stay off of cigarettes.  Call potential hospital employer to see if contact was attempted while in hospital; interviewer has cooled considerably, adopting "don't call us, we'll call you" attitude.  Grandfather comes down with flu; grandmother comes down with pneumonia.  Become primary caregiver for both, while shambling around in a fucking oxygen mask.

March 26 - Would smoke a live baby if someone told me it contained nicotine; manage to avoid temptation via succumbing to rampant bitchery.

March 28 - Follow-up doctor appointment.  Lady in waiting room allows hellspawn to run amok.  Am raging asshole to lady.  Taken off of home oxygen.  Receive first unemployment check.  Revel in trashiness of current life status.

March 30 - Doctor's office has thus far failed to inform Home Oxygen company I have discontinued O2, for which I am still being charged.  Call doctor's office.  Am raging asshole to receptionist.  Discover that being raging asshole to people enhances masturbatory experience.  Still have not smoked; cravings starting to lessen.

March 31 - Willing to blow each and every one of you for a cigarette, but trying to remain strong.

Currently Listening Metal Health By Quiet Riot Cum On Feel the Noize see related

I'm Still Alive!

Just not very bloggy lately.

Also, I've discovered Sims 2 will run on my computer, and my sim-lesbian couple, the Patchouli family, are doing quite well.