May 10th, 2003


Well, that sucked.

S: So why are you hanging out here?
me: Well, my mom told me I couldn't quit until I get another job.
S: You're how old?
me: 26, or I will be in a couple months ...
S: and your mom ..
me: It's really pretty straightforward from there.

Next best reasons:
two thousand dollars in debt
nothing better to do

I should not go back there again. It should be six months, if not a year before I go back there, and only then as a customer, or a barfly ("Norm!") That little happy exchange was the least of the sucky things that happened (including me going off at the mouth and nearly having to fight a kid, and other highly awkward social behaviour). I do not deal well with stupidity, particularly not when adrenalized.

If I don't go back (which I shouldn't), that would cut off the only income I've had for the last two months (or so). So I probably have to go back. And that kid may still want to fight me. And I may have pissed off some of the employees and alumni, although I can't tell if or how much. Oh, and I lost a pen.

They need a short order cook. It's just east of Decatur, GA. Must be 18 or older, no paperwork problems. 20-30 hours a week, mostly nights. Know anybody who needs a job that badly? 5.
  • Current Mood
    crappy crappy


And now the post you might want to read. Well, it's better than that one was, at least.

I'm about to dive into book two of Nowhere Girl, a [positive adjective]webcomic that was plugged by Warren Ellis in his /. interview, itself a fun read for his reactions, and the stuff about Patrick Stewart.

Neal Stephenson's next novel, Quicksilver now has a release date: September, 2003, and a website. It's volume one of a trilogy called the Baroque Cycle, and the website is at . The excerpt I mentioned before is up on the site (well, part of it is. I think the version I read was longer.)

I'm on chapter twenty-something of Broken Saints (lost my place). And I need to chase the other webcomic that Ellis plugged down. Oh, and here are two more: Acid Reflux, in which a young female God gets a hand-me-down universe from her spoiled older sister, and he (Irving) has indigestion. Very funny. and PvP, a funny strip about gaming and geekiness (which I found through the author's worshipful review of X2, linked by .. er, one of you. Both strips seem to have free archives online, so read from the top, enjoy, and then send money.

Are the elephants under the turtle, or on top of it? Trying to answer that question resulted in me geeking out with some patrons at the restaurant, and finding the location of an embroidery shop (across from Sharian), and the latest stop for the SciFi Mystery Bookstore (Shallowford and 85). Eventually they had to go, and so I went to see if there was anything to deliver. That thread leads directly to the previous post, so I 'll just say I made eleven bucks and got a half-tank of gas for ten of them.
  • Current Music
    MoonShadow - Ghost Dark Rave


I can't sleep. Brain won't shut off, and the thoughts are .. unpleasant.

In trying to figure out how I said something as insulting and inflammatory as I did (And in hindsight, it was pretty bad), I see the source, and it seems to be all of this pent-up anger and frustration. Not just my normal load, but a whole extra cartload that I picked up just from being there tonight (last night) or at all.

I am not doing well now, which is why I started composing this, internally, in bed. The drive home was a hint as to how down I was. I composed the first post during that drive, and rushed inside to bang it out and post it. a few minutes later I made the second post, and then I read webcomics for awhile. Then, I looked around the room, and the computer at some of the crafty things I have been collecting (little projects and such). Looking closely at a few, and realizing I was too tired for Legos ™, gave up. Later still I porned for a bit, still in search of a distraction. And an hour ago, I felt tired enough to climb in bed and try to sleep.

I couldn't. Can't. Lots of thoughts. Tracing down the motive force behind my insult, realizing the magnitude of the affront, trying to puzzle out a way to bring the matter to a close (I'm thinking of offering him a free shot at me.) Considering never going back there. Thinking that would be cowardly Counter-argument that I stood my ground then, and that staying clear is pragmatic not craven, Thinking of selling pizza bag to another driver, or to the manager for $1.. trying to remember whether my knives were in the cabinet next to bed, thinking what sort of bonds I have available, realizing that cuffs would not keep me from the knives, and that I have no cuffs... dawn breaking, considering driving to someone's house, waking her up, and asking to be held...and composing the first two paragraphs of this.

It's cold in here. I'm tired but quite awake. Yawning, eyes bleary, fuzzy headed, but not sleepy. And even if I was, I'll not be trying to sleep again for awhile, after how the last hour or so went.