i am so tired. i should take a nap. i should go do something. i should quit whining. or rather, start.

goddamned broken copy machines. i bet she was lying. i'll just have to send the check to those t-mobile bastards tomorrow. and i know what's going to happen. they're going to tell me the money i paid to those other people was only for the credit card bill. and then i am going to call those other people and they are going to tell me the same thing even though I SPECIFICALLY ASKED FOR THIS FUCKING REASON. i knew i was getting off way too easy. there's another six hundred dollars i'll have to pay before i do anything. and i haven't heard anything back from compusa either.. i'll call there tomorrow, too.

my brother just killed himself in the laundry room looking for vaccuum cleaner bags. now he's yelling at the vacuum. boy needs help.

damned susan took station five this morning right out from under me leaving me in the back room meaning i think i made thirty dollars today. i didn't even care to count. by the time four thirty rolled around i could barely bend over to put glasses and coffee cups away. i was home by five.

damn is the word of the week.

i'm not really in a bad mood, honestly. though bad moods just keep flying at me out of nowhere. i'll bat them away with tennis rackets.