I have no skin left. Just a bunch of dried up paper cut scabs where skin used to be. I'm also on the lookout for the 'thrax cause rumor has it the mail is where it's found.
But at least I got a job. And I actually do have a real job finally. The mail room is only temporary until a new training class starts. Tomorrow I get to spend all day making four copies of this HUFUCKINGMONGOUS three ring binder full of shit. It's heavier than something really heavy toting something else that's really heavy after having just eaten some Long John Silver's or something. I don't know.
It's got 150 fucking tabbed dividers in it. That's how heavy it is.
I hope to make a good first impression tomorrow by making the copy machine catch fire and bellow a putrid electrical smoke throughout the entire second floor.
Something that's kinda neat: my office is on Route 66 (THE Route 66)and I get to drive down it each day.
Something that's kinda gay: me thinking it's kinda neat.
Something that hurts like hell: my back.
Opening mail and sticking labels on shit is more grueling than it looks like it would be.
I downloaded the whole White Stripes album that has everyone talking cause I've been too skeptical to plop down hard earned cash on it.
That shit DOES rock as hard as the magazines said.