My job has taken a turn. Now, the only thing I enjoy is the dressing up part. They've fired my compatriot. The one that they sent to NorthPark. The one who worked 12 hours a day for the last two weeks. The one I called when I was thinking about taking the job in the first place. The one who has talked me off the ledge more times than I can count. And they just unceremoniously let her go yesterday. It is time for me to find something else. I thought this would make me happy. Since taking this job, I've never been more miserable. I sometimes just sit in my car and cry before I go in. I'm rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic. At least when I had her, I had someone who understood what we were going through. Now, I'm all alone in a job that is sucking my will to live.
Friday night, I had another date. Same boy from the Mavs game. We went to the Grape, which was lovely. While I was on my way to dinner, I stopped at the ATM machine. I don't mind splitting or even picking up a check, so I wanted to be prepared. So, I'm waiting on the hood of Dieter. Someone else was using the machine, and I hate it when people are breathing down my neck while I'm trying to conduct transactions. So, I'm waiting, over by my car. Near, but not so close that I can see her dandruff or anything. And some guy gets out of his Acura to wait in our little line we've got going. His hair is slicked back. He's drawn on a mustache. He's wearing a velvet jacket. He's carrying a gigantic novelty cigar. He sits on his hood. He looks over at me and then looks me up and down.
Halloweenie: "So, you on your way to a costume party?"
Me: "No, I just look like this."
One final thing: We're only eight days away from the celebration of my living another whole year. Yesterday, Smang gave me a Big Bag O' Presents. In the giant bag? A PED EGG! She got me a Ped Egg, which she thinks is the foulest invention on the planet. I promised not to show her my feet skins.