(no subject)

Sorry about my bitchfit earlier; it's gone, now. I signed off AIM pretty early and went on to do exciting things like watch Bladerunner, play Dead or Alive 4, and practice playing Hotel California on my brother's guitar. Turns out early sleep isn't for me, so I redid my info and ... yeah, that's pretty much it. HTML! It's rarely soothing, but seemed to do the trick.

... Deckard's totally a fucking Replicant. How did I never notice this before?

Oh, God, interview is tomorrow.

(no subject)

Bridgette went through my clothes this morning while I was asleep and wore the clothes I was planning on wearing to the interview to... high school. This means I have to go to it in the oxymoronic state of formal slacks and no bra.

Goddamnit.

Edit: "If you want this job, it's yours." Manager man, that's the best news I've heard in a week.

... Actually, I don't feel any less stressed, because evidently my life is about to become complicated and shit, but whatever. I GOT A JOB.

More editing: It's really quite hilarious listening to my brother and his guy friends explain that they think I got the job based on what I look like, while managing to make sure their lectures aren't remotely complimentary. Thanks, guys, really. Thanks.