Today, wrapped in seaweed.

Work is seriously sucking. Today’s shift will be Day 3 out of 5, and if you know me at all, that is an uncharacteristic run. Fact is, I make enough money bartending that I can afford to work just 30 hours a week or so and still keep up with my bills. This is my trap. I hate my job, but I can sort of stand to do it 3-4 days a week. I am looking hard for work, but I just can’t bring myself to get a new job at a different restaurant. And real, living-wage-type jobs are scarce as shit. A few promising leads lately, but I lack enough experience in administrative settings. Very, very frustrating.

Meanwhile, at the restaurant job, I’m given the same amount of respect as those that were TEN YEARS OLD when I first began my employment there. I was basically called a liar by one of my superiors, because he refused to admit that he was-gasp!-wrong about something. I find it increasingly difficult to work at this place, and if I could only tell you all the thousands of reasons why without getting good and fired (okay, that would not so bad, but still…).

Promise you this: Soon as I find something new, I’m gonna break it down for y’all. The real deal skinny. I’ve got six years of pent up frustration, and when I finally don’t have to worry about my bosses stumbling onto my web site there will be a deluge of vitriol so fierce you’ll likely slap whoever’s nearest you.

I would be going to the “office” Christmas party tonight had I not been scheduled to CLOSE after overhearing my manager explain that only newer people would be working late. No one’s asked me if I’m going, but I’m not. Me and the VCB are going to party like rock stars in my apartment. Just us and Conan O’Brien. It’s the late-nite soiree of the season, yo.

Am having sushi with my sweetie friend Amy at 1 this afternoon. I’ve been thinking about crunchy shrimp rolls since last night. I dreamed sweet raw fish dreams all night, until those dreams turned frantic and anxiety-inducing. I dreamed my landlord was barging in with someone to show my apartment and there was wax everywhere. I’d left some candles burning and they’d all melted intot he carpet and the walls and oh my god, I slept naked.

When I finally woke I was pleased to discover there was no wax, no landlord, no prospective renter. Just a towering pile of dirty laundry and a few hours before mmmmmmmmm, crunchy shrimp rolls.