mnvnjnsn's Diary

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Potpouri for five hundred, Trebek.

It's been one of those days where I have found myself crying out "Oh for fuck's sake in a bucket!!" far too often. A day in the life of a help desk person. Ah, well.

Speaking of work, one more day and then I'm off to beautiful Sacramento for three days of training (giving, not receiving). I wondered why it was so hard for me to find a hotel, but then I spoke to my mother and she informed me that Sacramento will be filled with Methodist conventioneers-- including herself and That Woman-- for the same three days. Luckily, Mom pre-empted my excuses to say that they would be "far too busy" with the Methodist partying, so they couldn't meet up with me whilst we appeared in the same city.

Color me rending my garments and lamenting loudly about this, I tell you what. I'll just have to be sure to stay out of the bars so I don't accidentally run into them.

Speaking of religion, I have a confession to make. A music confession.

I've been buying a lot of music lately, thanks to (it seems like it'd be illegal, but I'm pretty sure [whisper]it isn't[/whisper].

Anyway, I've been indulging myself in kind of moody young pop, like Death Cab for Cutie and The Fray, and I'm never sure-- when I'm listening to them on the bus-- if people can hear it and somewhere, inside, they are mocking me.

I think the young lady I sat next to on the bus was (I can call someone in her 20s a 'young lady' now, because I'm officially in that demographic that is especially endangered by smoking and birth control pills. I'm only a couple years away from a mammogram, and I can't tell you how thrilled I am about *that*.). She may just have been pissed that I made her move her bag so I could sit down, but COME on! That shit only works on school buses, bitch. Go sit in the sideways seats reserved for the old and disabled and throw those looks somewhere else.

While I'm linking to bands I've been listening to, I highly recommend the latest album from The Decemberists. If anything is worth spending $1.50 on, it's Picaresque.

In medical news-- I know that's everyone's favorite topic here-- the anti-depressants I'm on now have now reached their plateau (that is, the dosage I'm on has put enough in my system for the drugs to work just like they're supposed to) and I now tear up at the thought of a dropped hat. I got sniffly at every acceptance speech I saw on the Tony Awards last night.

Which makes my moody music listening tricky to do in public. Yikes.

9:15 p.m. - 2006-06-12


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