Another sweltering summer

I wish I was the lady in this photo. Submerged in a cool watering hole. But for now I am simply submerged in my own sweat.
Working in a tin shed in the midst of the summer is unbearable. Even though I wear very little to work.

Summer is not my favorite season. For several reasons:

1. I sweat profusely...mainly from my armpits.
2. I am unable to cover my mainly biceps unless I want to pit out every shirt that I own.
3. I have an ever increasing colony of freckles.
4. Heat makes me listless and mopey.
5. I look bad with a tan.

I should just move to the great north and make nice with some arctic foxes. Or Eskimos.
(Eskimo means eater of raw meat)

Oh, Nick and I procured a homestead. We will be moving in on July, 1st. It has three bedrooms and a basement. I think, after a year of living in one room together with our three cats, that we will become afraid of all the space and move all of our belongings into the living room.
Okay I do not really think that.

Overtime

Today, I am working overtime. I learned many things this week.
A brief list:
1. Dayquil or "Daytime"(the cheap generic version) is best paired with Monster energy drinks.

2. Twelve hours passes very slowly when one is locked in a shed wearing lingerie.
I may add, being peered at by men who are either married to aging wives or who have no hope of being married to any wife.

3. Pulling weeds is not a restful pastime for a person's sole day off.

(However, Dayquil/Monster can be a great resource for pulling weeds on one's sole day off when that unfortunate person is suffering from an insidious disease/headcold.)

4. The sunrise is beautiful. One still hopes not to see it.

5. People/coworkers do not return kindnesses. Just because one sacrifices an entire Saturday to another, does not mean that the recipient of said Saturday will reciprocate favor.
Actually said person will refuse to come in for the paltry three hour shift that they were scheduled. Leaving you, sad overwrought employee to man the god damned place alone.
Don't be kind to these people. It gets you nowhere and they don't even appreciate it.

Yes these lessons and more.
Happy April folks.

When I grow up

Chagall

My world is chalk full of nonbelievers.
"What are you going to do?" asks a concerned relation or friend of relation.
"I'm going to write." I reply.
"But what are you going to do?" the asshole inquires.
I woke up early and watched Girl, Interrupted. I loved the book (by Susanna Kaysen.) The movie was good also, I especially enjoyed Winona Ryder. Anyways, Susanna is asked the same inane question about her career.
"I'm going to write."
"But what are you going to do?"
Apparently this conspiracy against the arts has been going on for a long time.
Are people really so attached to their jobs slaughtering cows and skinning carcasses?
Are people really so proud of filing paperwork for hours on end, while their brains are liquefying inside their skulls?
I don't know.
But it seems like no one has believed in me.
I don't even believe in me.
Art, literature, fantasy...the best reasons I can find to keep on breathing. Without music and art we would be just like the animals.
Breed, breathe, eat, sleep, kill each other for our resources.
The very best attributes of mankind are found outside that. In art.
But "smart" people don't pursue art as a career. They'd rather work the nine to five and invest their money in good stocks. They'd rather have security than freedom. They'd rather take a giant shit on my face than dream something of their own.
Maybe I'll die poor, but at least I tried.

Big Companies Blow

http://ariokh.deviantart.com

Yuck. I honestly loathe big business.
And I'm such a liar.
I have to pretend to be a different person at every job interview. Oh yes, I love to bring joy to the customer,
I am VERY organized,
I just love covering shifts and taking overtime,
would I describe myself as a team player? Oh definitely.
Bullshit.
I have no passion for customer service. I won't take extra shifts if I can avoid them. Me, a team player? Craziness.
Oh well. Today will be a blast nonetheless. I'm taking Pin-Up girl photos of the lovely Miss Shepherd. I know you're all waiting with baited breath for those images. Well looks like my unemployment streak is coming to an end soon. (Eventually.) If I don't get hired here I'll be a sad janitor. But honestly? Mopping floors appeals to me more than licking other people's assholes to appease them.
I know, I'm too vulgar.