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before the world dies at my door
I am having the least exciting holiday weekend ever. But then I went in to work for five hours today, and I'm working Monday, so. Not much of a holiday weekend to work with, is the thing. I am enjoying the bright sunshiney-ness, at least. I was starting to think May was going to make the whole east coast drown.
There's a slow, labored bass beat coming from somewhere, and it's driving me just a little bit insane. Bass beats, crying babies, and barking dogs = OMG THE ANNOYINGEST.
Yesterday my seat neighbor M was stressing out about buying tickets to see The Killers, since she wanted to get them right when they went on sale, which was ten o'clock, but we're only allowed fifteen minutes on the computers in the "internet cafe" and what if the site was slow as it inevitably is at such times??? which spoke of a level of obsession I can really get behind, so I confessed to my Panic devotion and we spent some time contemplating the relative awesomeness of our respective favorite Vegas-born, Mormon-raised, guyliner-wearing vocalists, and traded ipods for awhile since she hadn't heard Pretty Odd and I only really know the Killers songs that everyone knows, so it was a nice enlightening experience for the both of us. (Also, M was able to get the tickets. Happy endings for everyone!)
Tomorrow I'm going to go back to Lord & Taylor and try on that stupid dress, because the fact that I've thought about it every day for the past week means that, provided it works with my body type, it's probably worth $150. So um. Here's hoping it looks TERRIBLE on me. (Coincidentally - ? - $150 is the exact amount I will get post-taxes for my time at work today.) Also, I have to put gas in my car tomorrow. I mean, yay that I only have to do it every 3-4 weeks and all, but I'm still getting palpitations just imagining what it'll be up to. If I didn't worry about money, though, where would I get my periodic waves of crippling anxiety from? I sure would hate life without those.
There's a slow, labored bass beat coming from somewhere, and it's driving me just a little bit insane. Bass beats, crying babies, and barking dogs = OMG THE ANNOYINGEST.
Yesterday my seat neighbor M was stressing out about buying tickets to see The Killers, since she wanted to get them right when they went on sale, which was ten o'clock, but we're only allowed fifteen minutes on the computers in the "internet cafe" and what if the site was slow as it inevitably is at such times??? which spoke of a level of obsession I can really get behind, so I confessed to my Panic devotion and we spent some time contemplating the relative awesomeness of our respective favorite Vegas-born, Mormon-raised, guyliner-wearing vocalists, and traded ipods for awhile since she hadn't heard Pretty Odd and I only really know the Killers songs that everyone knows, so it was a nice enlightening experience for the both of us. (Also, M was able to get the tickets. Happy endings for everyone!)
Tomorrow I'm going to go back to Lord & Taylor and try on that stupid dress, because the fact that I've thought about it every day for the past week means that, provided it works with my body type, it's probably worth $150. So um. Here's hoping it looks TERRIBLE on me. (Coincidentally - ? - $150 is the exact amount I will get post-taxes for my time at work today.) Also, I have to put gas in my car tomorrow. I mean, yay that I only have to do it every 3-4 weeks and all, but I'm still getting palpitations just imagining what it'll be up to. If I didn't worry about money, though, where would I get my periodic waves of crippling anxiety from? I sure would hate life without those.
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Hee. Nice rationalization/justification/excuse there. :)
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