Yesterday both sucked, and was somehow awesome.
I got a call, and was told I'm not qualified to be a line cook, and while that means no second job, it does mean that I can spite this employer, and finally open the highly illegal, underground restaurant in my apartment. Fuck yeah.
Also, I finally found the last piece of equipment that I need to finish...
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Weird: Being true to oneself, taking pride in that which makes one unique, and not caring if anyone has a problem with it.
Normal: Giving far too many fucks about other people's opinions.
It seems no one explained to my apartment's contractors that you have to salt after plowing. Nothing like slipping, and fall on my ass to start off the day.
On a positive note, I now get to walk with a pretty cool limp.
I am not trying to steal my neighbor away from her boyfriend. Hopefully, it hasn't come across that way. I've done that shit before, and it almost always comes back to bite me in the ass.
So, in order to prevent insane amounts of poverty in my life, I'm having to get a second job (adios, sleep), and because about my only useful job skill is cooking, I applied to be a line cook at the shit-hole casino here in Dover.
Turns out (and this is the insane part), if I get the job, my co-worker will be...my neighbor (you know,...
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This statement brought to you by my neighbor's boyfriend, who believes that she (my neighbor) is going to leave him for me, despite the fact that we don't really talk.
And about all I have to say for this past week is, I can't wait for the day when being a good person doesn't lead to me feeling miserable.
Oh well, onwards and upwards, amigos and amigas.