Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Fucking Corporate America ...

I can't memorize the sandwich list. Manager boy is hassling me.
M: "Well if you worked at a corporate location, you'd be fired by now."
G: "Good thing I'm not."
M: "They make you take a test your second shift, you have to get at least 80% right, or they fire you"
G: "That's dumb, I'd be out of a job."
M: "How long have you been working here?"
G: "About four glorious months."
M: "What's on a Country Club?"
G: "I don't know"
M: "You don't know?"
G: "No, I don't KNOW. I'm bad at memorizing things."
M: "But it's been four months"
G: "There are a lot of sandwiches. Now do you want me to slice this cheese log or what?"
Manager Boy walks away shaking his head.
Look folks I'm trying to memorize the damn list, does anyone have any memorization tips? My memory is a real problem, now it's affecting my work (ha ha I've always wanted to say that!).
Can't wait till urban co-habitation in the FALL. Can't hardly wait. I'm still riding some inexplicable wave of goodness, but I found some writing from about a month or so ago whereas that wave did not ebb and flow.
It's that weather, the kind that wells up in your gut and makes you feel sorry. Sorry for things you did in the past, sorry for your neighbor whose boyfriend cheated on her, sorry for being a poor friend and a bad listener, sorry for your ex-boyfriend and sorry for your new boy-friend, sorry for that lost soul who can't get his shit together long enough to function to his potential. And on days like this it all hits you at once. Two thousand tons of unfiltered sorry, and all you can do is cry. Not exactly sure for whom or why or for how long. Luckily it hit me at night, and not in the middle of class or while making sandwiches. I didn't sleep but I crawled into bed, curled into the fetal position, and let my pillow catch the tears. I walked out of the runway and stifled my sorry sobs. Sat on the toilet. Tired of being sad. Roommate, rapped gently. That even sounded sad, "Last Unicorn, are you okay?" I choked back phlegm and despair, "Uh-huh Roomie sorry for waking you I - I- I'm fine." I finally fell asleep around four a.m. My big sister woke me up in the early morning with baby names. I didn't like the name, but I knew that this was the best way to wake up. I'm going to make a conscious decision not to live in the past. Not mine, not yours, not Wallace Steven's, not even neighbortron's. That's hard when I have a past like you dear.
Mmmm. I remember that night. It was such an overwhelming feeling. I had never been so affected. It's good to have those times though. I think I've been on an up and up since. Started two new pieces very exciting. Not too excited about all the academic bull-shit I need to get done in the next two weeks. Shit bags. I turned in an over thirty page critical analysis today. It was heavy on the hands. Reading tomorrow with a microphone. I hate microphones. Ew.

Busy Busy you probably won't see me till the weekend.


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