Ten Little Chances to be Free

There are forty-two cages' worth of small animals at the pet store I work at. Wendesdays are cage cleaning days. Chris, Tony, and I were supposed to split the cleaning between us as equally as we could today. Somehow, Tony ended up doing zero, Chris ended up doing five, and I ended up doing...

...well, do the math.

Whatever may-or-may-not-be-faked injury kept Tony from pulling his weight today had fucking better have healed by next week, because there is no way on God's green earth I am so much as touching any cages next Wednesday.

Edit: Is this just "Make letitallgo's Blood Pressure Rise" week or something? At least two people have whored clips from my 4/29 audio around YouTube in the past few days, without so much as a by-your-leave. sdkjkl;jdsf

First day back from break, and already the benefit of a week of relaxation has evaporated. Cold. Hungry. Tired. Overworked. Have no stockings to wear with my skirts now the weather's colder, have no time to eat, have too much work to sleep, have idiot professors who think their class is the only one where we have homework, have job that demands almost full-time hours. Fie.

On the other hand, have just bought the Brick in French, and minus shipping it was actually cheaper than the English version. And I get my computer back in a week or two, so I can trade for foreign cast recordings, and am ebaying for something I can use for Devious Secret Halloween Costume. Still haven't found exactly what I want; it shouldn't be that hard to find a--

Not telling. Nope. Should probably just make it myself anyway.

You at the register, listen to this: you are the one holding up a long line. You're on your own. You have no friends. Give up your Triple Betty Crocker $1 Off Coupons or die.

And that's all I have to say about work today.

In other news, OMGWTFWWJD homework. Also, OMGWTFUSSR break in two weeks thank god. As well as OMGWTFNAFTA teh hawt smut hath keeled me ded.

So. Had my first day of actual Work today, four hours bagging groceries. It actually didn't suck too bad; I wish I could've gotten a chance to sit down, but it was easy and we only got one asshole at the register I was working. On the other hand, I got so sick of comments about my hair that somewhere in the middle of my shift I started fabricating a long and thrilling tale involving two technicians from Chernobyl and Three Mile Island getting together and having purple-haired children, just so I'd have something better to do than roll my eyes whenever someone said, "So, is that your natural hair color? Haw haw!"

Yes. Yes, that is my natural hair color. I really wish I could do the story justice; it involves radioactive tarantulas, zeppelin chases, Zyklon B, and neurolinguistic hacking. Did I mention that if you got a Geiger counter near me it would probably explode, and that the radiation will probably cause your hair to turn purple too if you eat any of the food I've been bagging for you?

ETA: The essay of absolute crack? Got an A-. HA. Take that, sanity.