2004 No More!
Paris Hilton is a whore!
Cara, mon amour, je t'adore!
Close enough. I was cogitating a "Year in Review" post, but the stark terror of unemployment is blocking my neural pathways. Also severely impeded: the humor. You know you only come here for the funny, so I thought I'd let you know.
Sad fact about me: I don't even have a credit card, so I can't live off plastic and rack up some patriotic debt while I look for work. I'm being denied my basic civil rights.
In other news, I really wish I hadn't named my dog Tsunami right now. Every time I call him, I get all depressed thinking about the death toll in Asia. Why did we have to be clever? Couldn't we have named him Sam or Max? He's supposed to cheer me up but every time I rub his ears lately all I can think of is encroaching water-borne illness. Also, he smells like Fritos.
I keep thinking I can go back to waiting tables, but my body is rebelling. I have this really excruciatingly painful tendinitis in my shoulder. It may hurt more than childbirth; I've never actually given birth, but I've seen it done and I'm pretty sure this shoulder pain is in the same ballpark. So I keep telling my body, Listen, we will so do whatever job we have to do to pay the mortgage and Advil isn't free, jackass but my shoulder throbs on, undeterred, occasionally spasming a little so that I have to gasp. No stoic I. Tori Amos once said that her shoulder tendinitis felt like someone was using a drill on the joint. I think her case must have been mild.
Aren't we glad I have some chronic pain as well as unemployment to worry about? What's a girl have to do to start reaping benefits from the welfare state? Lay down in front of a truck? Move to Canada?
Don't tempt me, either way.