Thursday, April 15th, 2004 | 20:56
My ass is definitely like... whoa!

T'was the first day of work. I want to quit already. As part of the job, I threw away enough edible food to feed a family of five for a fortnight. It made me sick. The smell of humid, decomposing soups, meats and vegetables didn't make me feel any better. Only the idea of 10$/hour for the next little while kept me from quitting right there.
I gave some thought to the concept that perhaps doing something I don't really enjoy will teach me a thing or two because, "I too need structure, a little fucking discipline." On the other hand, I get enough shit from stage crew that I'm not sure I really need any more personal stress and discomfort under the guise of experience or "embetterment".
I'm not sure my use of alliteration in the third sentence adequately describes how disgusting it made me feel to live in this country.
The lockers in the locker room are made by GSW Inc. I smiled and thought about shooting myself in a hospital. I also considered calling in sick.
I called but she's on the internet and you haven't moved into the twenty-first century yet.

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