It's Wednesday and I'm full of loan center loathing. Everything is dank and gray and harshly lit in my workplace world. The fuck-ass weather hasn't been helping. It's June. In Virginia. Where is the sun? Where is the blistering heat? I'm sick of this and according the stupid Weather Channel website, it's going to rain every day for the rest of the month. The local forecast, however, claims the weekend will be dry.

Who's right? Who knows? Screw you right in the butt, Weather Channel, I'm going with the locals on this one. It is unacceptable to have another rainy weekend. Un-AC-CEPT-ABLE. Why the hell am I still talking about the weather? It's like making small talk with myself.

Anyway, Boss Lady is out sick all week, which makes for a peaceful and almost completely work-free week. This is a good thing. However, because there are empty cubes all around me, they keep putting random people across the way, just for a few hours at a time. Currently, the cube-across-the-way is occupied by two women who're wearing enough Eau De Old Lady perfume to outfit a brothel. Jesus Christ, why so much? And why so cloyingly sweet? Could I complain more?

What a dumb question, of course I can! So, last night, before I fell asleep, I got this horrible sinking feeling that I'm not going to get the job. I'm just not. I have no concrete reason to believe this, but I'm pretty sure it won't come through.

A friend of mine said I'm probably protecting myself from more crushing disappointment, which may be true, but honestly, I'll be crushed either way. I've tried really hard to not get my hopes up, but this is the only employment bone I've been throw in five months. How can I not hope? Luxolive put out a plea to the universe on my behalf, so maybe that'll help. Or else maybe the universe is still pissed off about some other stuff I put out there and will use this opportunity to smack me down? Remember the Employment Gods? Right-O.

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Eliciting The Squee.

So last night, Kenny and I were driving around and we passed by a new Honda Element. Girl child. "Squeeeee!! Ooooiiieeeh! squEeEEEEeeee!" Involuntary dolphin noises! Reaching pitches only dogs can hear! Kenny looked over at me with amusement and says:

"You know, there are only three things that cause you make that noise."

Raised eyebrows. I replied:

"Okay, the Honda Element is one. What are the other two?"

"Pugs."

(This is very true. I love a pug dog so much that I've been known to throw myself, keening with joy, down on the sidewalk to pet them. Love some pug, y'all. Have you seen that baby animal show on Animal Planet? They did one with pug puppies and the girly noises I made were high-pitched enough to shatter glass.)

"Okay, that's absolutely true. What's the other one?"

-long pause-

"Otters."

"That's not. What. I thought. You were going to say."

Snicker.

But it's true- Pugs, Otters and the Honda Element all bring on the squee. What does that say about me? How is it that a strange boxy car-thing (you can put your mountain bikes right in the back! Upright!), a smushy-face dog, and lovely sleek otters all elicit the same response from whatever part of my brain deals with twee? I don't understand. It's not just me though, Mayapple also adores the Element beyond all reason.

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Sorry about the fake-out new entry earlier. I've been working on a links page and loaded it in an overly-hasty manner. It's up now so you can see what I read when I'm supposed to be working. Bad Adrien!

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