Geez Louise. Why didn't anyone tell me that employment was going to steal away all my blogging time? And my sleeping time? And cleaning time? And movie time? And walking-around-the-mall-in-the-middle-of-the-day-just-because-I-can-and-no-one-else-is-there time? And my time for anything else enjoyable other than watching Twins games on TV?

Work is fun though; I really enjoy it thus far. All the people are pretty much wonderful and helpful and patient (I require lots and lots of patience). As much as I dread getting up at 6:00 am (FIVE next week), I don't dread going to work yet. And after a week, I consider myself lucky for that.

Big names are tossed around my workplace like these people aren't the coolest thing since sliced bread. I think I might know how Brian feels now, though I've never met any of the big names. Hopefully that will be a job perk.

Other than that, nothing's new. I learned how to ride the bus, which is a pretty big step for me. Downtown is full of interesting folks as well, and the people watching is just fine down there, if you're into people watching.

But, most importantly, it's freaking FRIDAY. Happy freaking Friday, kids.

Some thoughts:

Right now I'm watching the Twins game in the south side of the apartment. On the north side is Darren, watching Queer Eye. Should I be concerned?

Earlier today Chelsea suggested the reason I took that horrible digger off the bike this weekend is because it had two wheels rather than one. Upon her pointing this out, I realized that I have grown more accustomed to riding a unicycle than a bike. Maybe those 16 cans of beer had something to do with it as well.

For whatever reason, I can't stop thinking about a speech I gave my freshman year in college. As with most speech classes, we had peer critiques in which a classmate (or two, or three, or six) stated the thesis of the speech, why it was good, and everything that sucked. My "controversy speech" was on euthanasia and a lovely young airhead named Heather critiqued me. The topic, according to Heather? Youth in Asia. How confused do you think she was?


And those, ladies and gents, are my thoughts for the evening.

Last night brought an I-finally-have-a-frickin'-job celebration and, boy oh boy, it was something. I somehow lost the hours from - oh - one in the morning to six or so. One might think I was sleeping during these hours, but oh no, I was awake. I also did not black out. Time just flew. Flew! And now here I sit with unexplainable, but terribly impressive, bruises all over my body. Word has it drinking and bikes don't mix.

I can only ever remember having stayed up all night twice in my life, including last night. During my sophomore year of college I was awake for a 24-hour period and I felt that I had gained a seriously important life experience. Apparently it's normal for people my age to stay up all night every now and then but I just can't do it.

So anyway, I went to sleep at ten this morning and slept for two and a half hours. If my insomniac fits aren't laid to rest (tee hee) tonight, I don't know what the hell I'm going to do. For the past week or so I've been sitting awake at night, trying not to make too much noise in a one-room apartment with my boyfriend sleeping on the other side of the room because he has to wake up at 4:30 in the morning to work.

I start my job on Friday, so I have another week of living like a bum. I plan on enjoying it very much, though I'm not sure exactly what I want to do with the time. I think my real goal should to learn how to sleep at night without the assistance of drugs. At least it'd be cheap. Ah yes, and I'll have to learn how to ride the bus at some point because I did take the job downtown. I wanted to work at the hospital - really, Aurora! - because I feel like it's something I'd like to get into, but I think I'd be a better fit at the hotel.

We'll see.

Actually, I was wrong. I didn't get A job today; I got two. I got the first call this morning and the kindly lady at the fancy pants hotel offered me a job. I went to my interview at the hospital this afternoon and explained to the chatterbox interviewer that I had another offer on the table. I got a call an hour after I left that interview from HR at the hospital offering me the job. Way to check on those references!

I look for a job for four excruciating months and then I'm offered two in the same day - two jobs that I would have gladly taken, had they not been offered to me at the same time. When it rains, baby, it pours. But hey, I'm two-for-two with my interviews.

Work downtown and take the bus to work every day or work a mile away for $5,000 less a year? What to do, what to do...

I got a job.

Holy shit, I got a job!

I didn't accept it yet. That comes tomorrow. First, I have to go to another interview today for a job that I thought I wanted more than life itself. But, as it turns out, the pay and benefits at the job I HAVE BEEN OFFERED may be too good to pass up.

Heavens me, I think I might pee my pants.

I'm not sure whether any other unemployed bums were watching Family Feud early yesterday afternoon, but the wonderful newsfolk at FOX interrupted fast money with the latest breaking news on the pope. He was dead, they reported.

Initially I was simultaneously saddened (hey, dude...the pope's dead) and pissed off (it was a really good round of fast money - they needed 50 more points and had three more responses to tally. Did they win the $20,000? I'll never know!) What perturbed me even more was a half hour later when they revealed the cruelest April Fool's Day joke ever pulled on national television (okay, so it probably wasn't intended as an April Fool's Day joke). The pope wasn't dead after all! But surely, they said, he was going to die soon. A full 24 hours later, he's still alive.

Once again, FOX proves that the very best way to keep on top of the news is to report it before it happens. Why are they even allowed on air?