...and tight black leather pants. Yep.

...and I'm already fairly drunk! Hahahaha! I think I'll go back to sleep now.

WHO THE FUCK SPENDS OVER SIX HOURS A DAY ON THE MOTHERFUCKING TELEPHONE?!?!?!?!?!?!? HOW BLOODY HELL HOW?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Can I be dead now, please?

First of all, if you haven't read and commented on the previous post, do that.

Secondly, I don't think I can do this anymore. I detailed some potential options for my immediate future about a week ago, but after yesterday I'm pretty sure I can't continue to work this job. I don't enjoy it, it doesn't pay much, and good god some days it really makes me want to die -- and considering that the rest of my life is no cause for joy (last night I literally lay in the bed wide awake thinking about scalpels cutting into my neck with tears forming in the corners of my eyes)... I just don't think I can do it anymore. So I think I'll still apply for the job in the immediate vicinity -- I did survive the horrors of the bookstore for a while, so I think I could deal with the closer job, if I got it -- but I can't take much more of this, so I'll let it ride. And if I don't get that other job, I'm fucking out of here. Whether that means death or skipping town, I don't know at this point. Either would be better than my life right now.

Gotta go to bed now so I can wake up in 2.5 hours for work. Ja.

If you've got a really nasty and corky-tasting bottle of wine, mix it with equal parts fruit juice (I used cherry-flavored) and Mountain Dew for a delicious little drink -- fruity, fizzy, and with a slightly wooden aftertaste, almost as if you're eating the fruit right off the tree and simultaneously swallowing the effervescent vitality of Nature... and a lingering bit of the bough as well. Still good, though!

Oh yeah -- Happy 4th of July, everyone! Even you non-American blokes.