Hi, hello, I'm slammed as per usual, but Boss Lady swears it's going to ease up sometime soon. I hope so, because I think my journal is suffering and we can't have that.

I had a weekend that went like this: good, good, bad, good.

Mostly it was great: swimming, eating, biking, hanging out with friends, petting ponies at my sister's new house*, sleeping, repeat. Yesterday was not so good for a while because I had my bi-monthly "I'm a jobless loser" meltdown. Kenny rescued me from my self-pity wallow with dinner and a movie. He's nice that way. So, mostly it was a good long weekend. Right on.

*My sister moved out to the country. Here are directions for how to get there:

Drive west
Drive some more
Drive some more
Keep driving
Drive some more
Take a right
Drive some more
Drive some more
Pass the sod farm
Drive some more
Drive some more
Pass white building
Drive some more
Drive some more
Drive some more
Take a left into the driveway

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Signs I'm over my cruddy temp job:

1) Inability to play along with Dilbert-eque jokes from co-workers.

2) Random hatred of loan center workers I've never met, but sometimes see in the hallways, paired with constant bitchy internal monologue:

"I hate you. I hate you too. What are you wearing? Jesus. I pity you. Out of my way. You wear too much cologne. Did you just look at me? Don't look at me. God, I think I hate you."

3) Attempts to needle modicum of personality out of Milton, via email. Example:

From: Adrien
To: Milton
Subject: Surprise, Adrien has a question.
It's a really dumb one, too. Am I putting your loans in the right color folder? Because, see, some of them are supposed to be either manila or blue, depending on whether they're Premier. Am I to assume all your loans are Premier? How would I tell? Why do they make everything so complicated? Also, why is the sky blue and not manila?

Really, if that's not a cry for help, I don't know what is. (PS. his answer was completely unhelpful, did not address my actual question and he totally ignored my lame attempt at humor. What did I expect?)

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KINKONATOR-3. Rise of the Machines.

I hate Kinkos. For real, I do. This is a place where everything is supposed to be convenient and easy and it's always hard, hard, hard. And infuriating.

So I have this cover letter and I need to print it out, then copy it on nice paper. We don't have a printer, so I do this at Kinkos. Past experience has taught me that any disk I bring to Kinkos will automatically be corrupted or un-open able, so I usually just attach the file to my Yahoo mail, then access it via Kinko's Internet connection for the low, low price of something like $48.00 a minute. Easy, right? This entire process should take 10 minutes, tops. Ha. Hhahahahaha.

I arrived to find all the PCs occupied by people who seem to be doing nothing. There was one Mac open, so I sat down and tried to access the Internet. Nope, sorry. Macs are for graphic-y crap only. Motherf...

I finally got a PC, gave it my debit card and accessed Yahoo mail. When I tried to go into my mail it said "Sorry bitch, try again later." Being stubborn, I try again and again. And again. Grah. I retrieved my smoking debit card and called Kenny to ask him to send the doc to my other online email account.

I finally get the cover letter doc and open it up. I hit print. In doing so, I somehow open up some sort of Kinko's-brand print application that wants me to do all kinds of time-sucking things first before printing. Goddamn. The meter is running, so I flag down a Kinko's-brand employee who rolls her eyes and says I've got the wrong print option selected. No shit, really? Because I'm supposed to know which printer is the default, even if it's not set to the default? You're right, Kinko's-brand employee! I'm an idiot!

Anyway.

I printed the goddamn cover letter. I spent close to $10 to print a goddamn cover letter. I said goddamn.

I decide to use one of the many copiers to copy said letter onto nicer paper. I pick a copier, shoehorn my tired debt card into the machine and hit copy. It prints sideways. Oops, my fault. I fix the doc and hit copy. Apparently the toner chose that exact moment to run low. The letter is a faint ghost of it's former self. Grah.

I move to the next copier. Debit card, doc adjustment, copy. This one came out with big black spots all over it. Nothing says "this is a Goddamn professional cover letter" like big black splotches.

I move to the next copier. Debit card, doc adjustment, hit copy. What? "The fuser is charging, printing may be delayed?" What the hell does that mean? sob

I move to the next copier. The last one available. Debit card, doc adjustment, copy. It's perfect. I fall to the floor, weeping. Then, I flee before I kill someone.

I have a perfect cover letter for a job I won't get. It only cost 80 bajillion dollars. The machines are taking over, one copy at a time. Judgment day is nigh, people.

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I don't have time for links.

Okay, maybe one.

Hee! 21 Jump Street might become a movie! (via Fresh-Hell)

Okay, maybe two.

Wah, wah, wah. Apparently we're supposed to feel sorry for Gary Busey, because the show "I'm With Busey" is mean. Mean? Please. It's not our fault he's stark raving mad.

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