It’s Monday, so the start of a fresh week full of possibilities. *fart noise*
I’ve already got a mini-facial scheduled today at 4, so I will be forced into the city. That means I have to go to the gym, thank Christ. It’s been too many days already. True, I did meet the business end of a mini van just 72 hours ago, but I’m happy to report I’m feeling much much better, so a workout is in order. (I just lifted my shirt and jiggled my belly fat)
Yeah, fatty needs to earn a sweat in the worst way.
“What…business end, what!” NBD. I was just HIT BY A FUCKING CAR the other day. Silver lining: it was cold, so I was swaddled in eighteen layers of clothes. Also, she was making a turn, so hardly breaking 10mph. Also, like I mentioned, it was a mini van. The sloped hood turned the experience from being body slammed by a roided up linebacker to being picked up and cradled if you will, then immediately thrown to the ground like garbage.
Weeeeeeeee!
She actually knocked the curse words right out of me, because when I popped up, all I could scream was, “Are you kidding me?”
Bitch broke all my eggs, too. I should have sued.
Anyway, like I was saying.
I was supposed to meet my new gardening friend today, but she hasn’t responded to my text, thank God (flakey people unite! Maybe next week!), so I don’t think I’ll be freezing my ass off over a dirt hole as of yet.
P.S. This little gardening experiment of mine is guaranteed to be hilarious, for I haven’t a plant-friendly bone in my body. Shit, I killed a plant Matt gave me for Christmas, and the only reason he got it for me was because it’s one of the easiest plants to take care of.
Nope!
Killed that fucker extra dead in a matter of 10 days. Cause of death: over-watering.
That’s right. I cared TOO MUCH, so it died.
I’m not even going to get started on how much that parallels my entire romantic life…
I think we can work this out! Really!
Another reason this is to be an exciting week is I start my temping tomorrow at 9am, which means I have no choice but leave the house and deal with this fine city again.
And I don’t know if you’ve noticed yet, but shit goes down when I leave the house. So color me excited.
As thrilled as I am about the new experience/meeting new people at temp job, I do have concerns:
*The time I have to get there concerns me. Folks, I’ll be late to my own funeral. But only by, say, 10 minutes – so sit tight.
*How often I go to the bathroom during the day might actually be a problem, for I will have to have someone “cover the phones” every time I leave the desk.
I’m sorry, but the average person does not drink as much liquid as I do. Plain and simple. And with all the free coffee, tea, AND sparkling water (that’s my jam right there), I will go bananas and consume all of the beverages all damn day. Constant peeing is inevitable.
This could be a selfie, and you’ll never know. Oh haaaay!
(Slightly off topic, but when are New Yorkers going to embrace urinary catheters and/or adult diapers? Think of the time saved! With only 3 public bathrooms in the fucking city, I feel this would solve a lot of problems. World peace and shit.)
Where was I? Oh yes.
*The hours are from 9am-7pm. That makes for a very looooong day. Fuck me, when am I going to make it to the gym? I figure I’m going to have to be in bed by 8:30pm just to get enough sleep. Goddamn my need for 10 hours of sleep. It’s a disease. Like, legit.
Now that I’m not working full time, I’ve got evenings free to par-tay. I should find some lucky young chap to take me out, no?
Oh, shit. I just added a profile onto Time Out New York Singles.
This is going to be fucking hysterical!
As of 10pm, I’ve gotten 5 messages expressing interest. 5 old baldies, one of whom claimed he wanted to “make my eyeballs roll”.
Ew. Mission accomplished sir.
This is outstanding. I can actually feel my ego whimpering. But I musn’t lose hope! A rad guy is sure to be floating around on the internet waiting to meet me in my adult diaper for drinks after temping. That’s what all rad guys do, right?
Wow! So many rad, single guys here! Said no one ever
Not working full time also allows for taking care of my friends pets.
Dogsitting starts tomorrow, which means I get to stay on the Upper West side and act like I live there for an entire week. My Nana loves when I do this because she’s convinced I’ll meet a nice (rich) man. I try to explain I’ve a snowball’s chance in hell achieving this because I look/am the furthest thing from Jewish, but her confidence is just adorable.
A bit of drama with the dogs yesterday – I thought the owners had a dog walker for mid-day, and they didn’t. Those poor damn dogs hadn’t been out since that morning! I freaked out. Pictured two dead dog bodies in the middle of the floor, surrounded by piles of shit and puddles of pee.
This, however, was not the case when I arrived.
They were totally fine. I had 100 heart attacks, and those pups were totally FINE. True, a bit overly excited to see a human – but no puddles. No piles.
I’m not getting paid enough for this stress.
I intended to go running in Central Park that night, but I bought and drank a bottle of wine instead. Ate everything in sight. Passed out at midnight.
I sincerely hope I have more self-control tomorrow.
Sweet jobless freedom
I Curse Because I Care 