Today was the first day of fall quarter. Hold the applause. Do you know I have 8 a.m. classes four days a week? Do you know how early I have to wake up? Do you know what time I leave the house? Do you know how gorgeous the sky looks at that time of morning? Yes. Must stay positive. (Don’t worry, kids, stay tuned; further whining to recommence soon.)
So you want to know why I couldn’t find the blue paper to print out my timesheet at work? Because it was placed in a cubby-hole above my eye-level, dammit. Really, I shouldn’t have to strain my neck like that.
Fall quarter parking permits for school are now red. I like much.
Squash. As in, the vegetable. One word: NO. (Why does it always come back to this?)
Guys need to stop gawking while driving on the freeway. What’s even more annoying is when you’re forced to switch lanes and end up driving directly behind them, leading them to believe you’re stalking them on purpose. Please. Don’t flatter yourself. And get that victorious little smirk off your face. It’s not attractive. And while we’re at it, don’t put your face right up against the window like that. Didn’t your momma tell you? It’ll get stuck that way.
An awkward-looking man with scruffy orange sideburns was walking down the street in downtown Sacramento this afternoon with his tie tucked into his dress slacks. Why? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO YOURSELF? Please note the deliberate use of the caps-lock key. Obviously, this is something I feel quite strongly about.
Stressed and sad is not a good combination. Stressed, because I’ve only made it through one lecture and I’m already feeling claustrophobic about being back at school. It must be that damn biology class, I’m telling you, because the thought of Renaissance Literature tomorrow doesn’t seem to have quite the same effect. And sad, because the world is a crazy heartbreaking place and ideally everything should be good for those of whom you know nothing but good, but it isn’t. Does that make sense?
Did I tell you I’ve been working in downtown Sacramento during the past three weeks? Uhh, I guess I kinda forgot. I still haven’t figured out yet if turning left onto a one-way street on a red light is legal. Someone tell me already, because I hate waiting for green lights. Meanwhile, I’ve stopped being intimidated by one-way streets, and my parallel parking skills have noticeably improved. I can now parallel park on both sides of the street! This is hella exciting, in case you can’t tell.
I bought a pair of flared jeans for $12.99. Like, really flared. This is so exciting that it even merits a mention on the weblog. See?
When I told my friend S about the new job, he responded with a capitalization-laden reply along the lines of, “You’re driving 75 miles to work during your summer vacation?! Are you insane?!” Of course I am. It’s a skill I’m constantly working on perfecting. This is what spending almost an entire summer away from California does to you â you start forgetting key information about your friends, and that’s just inexcusable. Besides, now that school’s back in session, I’m regularly in the valley anyway, so what’s an extra 15 miles to work from campus? It all somehow makes sense with my convoluted logic. Or lack thereof.
I’m working on perfecting my disdainful look, too, but it’s not working out real well, because I have a tendency to roll my eyes and burst into laughter instead. Goshdarnit.
The seemingly never-ending freeway construction means that westbound I-80 is missing lane markings approaching the Interstates-80/680 junction. This also means that every evening, all the cars traveling in a westbound direction get extremely confused about whether we have four lanes or six at our disposal. Some lady nearly sideswiped me at the junction yesterday simply because she couldn’t figure out where the exit lane began. CalTrans needs to hurry up and get this job over with and stop putting my life in danger already.
Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to research potential careers for me.
Re. teaching: NO.
I’ve been enjoying listening to the Beatles’ album “1″ on and off for the past few weeks. Believe it or not, the only version of “Yellow Submarine” I’ve heard before this is my father’s. That, and his Pukhtu rendition of the same song. Fun stuff, but it’s nice to finally listen to the original as well.
I feel like retiring, and I haven’t even done anything with my life yet. Tell me, is this slightly problematic?