I was so pissed. I was driving home in my car, fuming, planning the scathing blog entry about hating my job and twelve-hour days and having to work holidays, all the while driving like a moderate maniac, peeling out from red lights and honking at the stupidity that regularly happens on the roads of Bowling Green.
I pulled into our driveway, maintaining my righteous anger. Stomped into the house. Turned on the computer. Went into the bathroom and peed. Went into the kitchen and got a brownie. Laid down on the couch to eat my brownie and watch a little TV (forgetting that my computer doesn’t take that long to boot up anymore).
Sigh… nothing like a half-hour nap to defuse your righteous rant about work and life and stuff.
Anyway, I really am sick of my job. I really do need to find a new one. And I really do need to stop drinking Mountain Dew and eating chocolate brownie stuff if I’m ever going to ease myself into this Atkins thing.
And I really do need to finish writing about P-Funk… later.