That I am friends. I am at work, at the lovely and prestigious Vanguard, who has laid myself and about 20 other people off, and made tomorrow our last day. Fine by me, this job is kinda gay, except it is money, and there are NO jobs out there. I mean there are, but they're so inendated with 50 million ba-jillion applications, you never hear back. I have been filling my time, by applying to whatever I can find online/looking at pictures of birds for my next tattoo. Now I obviously cant get this tattoo til I have another job lined up, but its something to keep me from worrying about money. Im a firm believer that if you dont worry about money, money comes to you. Its one of God's ipso-facto type miracle thingies. A personal favorite of mine, aside from the good old fashioned smiting. (I would like to stop and say at this point that what I just wrote made me laugh outside my head. My cubie Jacob took little time in pointing out how embarassing that must be for me...) Anyways, where was I? I dont know, Im so completely distracted by my own hilarious nature, I am having trouble concentrating. Tears have actually started coming to my eyes. I suppose the only way to end this, is to quote my dear cubie, who after tomorrow will merely be a blog buddy to me:
"She wasn't mad, thats just the way her voice sounds." and "I've never seen a neck stop a misile." and last but not least "Sarah if youre going to get a tattoo of a bird, it should be a tucan. I dont really know why, but it fits you."
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