Tuesday, February 17, 2009

"too many dicks on the dance floor"

Chester looks more comfortable than I am right now. I'm lying on the living room floor of my friend's apartment with their mischievous cat curled up next to me. Everyone else went to bed I think, but they actually have incentive to get up early. (it's called a job)

That's right, I am unemployed once again. After only working one and a half days at my new job, they decided "they weren't as busy as they thought they were gonna be" and kicked me out onto the street. Perfect. Now I'm awkwardly hanging around this crowded apartment trying to figure out my next plan of attack.

I don't want to make the four hour drive back in case something else comes up; between the tolls and gasoline, I'm near broke. And the money I did make "working" won't fully cover the cost it took me to get out here. I don't know what I'm gonna do now...

...except finish this beer and "sleep on it". That phrase does nothing for me, I always wake up the same as the night before. Only the time passes more slowly. I may need to tap into my bottle of sleeping pills for tonight; I'll need all the help I can get.

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