I can see it in their eyes—THEY'VE ALREADY DIED INSIDE.

It's no longer an ear infection! Oh, they're probably still infected, but they don't hurt much anymore so I'm ignoring them, I'm distracted by my eyes. They've turned Jesus fucking Christ red, coated in slime, and they actually crusted over in the night last night. Too gross? Well imagine how I felt when I was all I CAN'T OPEN MY EEEEEEEYES D: Today I've missed my first day at my paying job, and you probably all know how I feel about that. My illness now seems so ridiculous to me! I don't even blame you if you don't care or you think I'm exaggerating or what the fuck ever, 'cause I don't know if I believe in it, anymore.

But none of this matters! Because I just got this email.

Based on your EFC of 01133, you appear to be eligible to receive a Federal Pell Grant of up to $4200 for the 2009-2010 school year.

I can't breathe.

Next semester is actually looking to be insanely awesome. I'm getting free money, I'm taking Chinese, French, and Spanish, plus I've been offered independent study credits to help some linguist in his lab, I'm taking an entire course in syntax, which I could seriously do all day, I'm trying to get into this gorgeous place, which seems out of my price range but whenever I crunch the numbers actually isn't, I'll have my truck in Tucson, possibly one of my motorcycles, and weekend work with my dad to make the bills I can't cover with loans.

I'm just sitting here waiting for things to go terribly wrong.

☢THE GODDAMN ____ MEME
Guys, guys. I've got work this weekend. We have a job in Phoenix! Of course, my bastard brother actually got to go to California over the weekend to measure some stuff at Rattlesnake Ridge—I am so glad I named that job, I had no idea it was going to be such a reoccurring thing—though he probably doesn't appreciate my jealousy, since he's already working full time at the store.

I'm pretty much done with homework for the week and man I get to spend the afternoon screwing around totally guilt free.

Finished my first exam in less than ten minutes, which leads me to suspect that something is deeply wrong with the paper I turned in. And this is after showing up ten minutes late to class due to being so fucking tired I could barely drag myself out of bed this morning, which wasn't my fault--we didn't get in until one last night.

In fact, turning on this song was the only way I could manage to get up when I did. Because it amuses me.

... God, I am fucking tired. I can't even wax eloquent sarcastic about it, man.

The highlight of yesterday was either one of two things.

It was possibly the utter ridiculousness of being told that I'd accidentally graduated from community college with an AA in General Studies, and my diploma would come in the mail and would I like to participate in the ceremony next spring?

Or maybe it was driving home from work at ten under the speed limit because the Iron Man stand up in the cab of my truck was blocking me so I couldn't shift above third gear, all the while trying to drown out the DING DING DING sound of something else going terribly wrong by turning up U2 so high the music rattled my speakers and shouting, "I am not walking home in a snow storm; I am not walking home in a snow storm in May."

Also pretty fucking ridiculous.

I REALLY REALLY DON'T WANT TO WORK TODAY.

Join the club, I know.

We forgot some equipment, so surprise overnight trip! Except my brother got to bail, he's on his way home now, the prick. Gah, I got burned so bad that lying down on the bed hurts. And there was a dead cat. And a homeless guy who was so shitfaced I could only understand half of what he said.

I might get to actually get online tonight, though! ... Maybe. I have to get up early tomorrow to make my shift at GameStop. We shall see.

Edit: I wish someone would make icons of this movie, 'cause my own icons, they fail pretty hard. FANDOM, I COMMAND YOU. APPEAR.

Also, I typoed icons as skins. Time for bed, maybe?

And also: My boobs are sunburned. DDDDDDDDDDDDDDX

But wait!: Finally, a userinfo I can live with. I keep trying to make them, but talking about myself at any kind of length kind of makes my skin crawl. "Always a stickler for breaking the rules" is actually something Bryce said about me recently; it made me laugh. OKAY NIGHT.

I'm loooooooooooooooooooonely.

And, get this, I'm working for a couple hours tomorrow and then I'm driving back to Phoenix, and then I drive home to Flagstaff, where I stay until Sunday night, but I've got stuff to do, since I haven't been home in a week, and then I'll get on a train taking me to downtown Los Angeles, where my dad will pick me up and we'll do some work before heading out to San Diego, then back to Los Angeles, at some point we'll go to a Clippers game, and when we finally finish up the last of these jobs, we'll come home! WHEN WILL THIS BE?! I DON'T KNOW. MAYBE NEVER.

And I'm outta here, guys! See you in Los Angeles.

rocknload: Why does pizza NEVER become boring?
levade: The yeast infects your brain and controls your reaction!
rocknload: ....... Oh, my God. I think I hate you more right now than I ever have before.
levade: I AM LAUGHING OUT LOUD.
rocknload: YOU RUINED MY LUNCH BREAK.
levade: IT'S NOT MY FAULT YOU'RE EATING LUNCH AT SIX PM.
rocknload: I am WORKING. I don't pick my hours. Going back, now. Thank you for this... Interlude.
levade: <3

I've noticed that me and Bryce, after nearly a week on our own, have settled into a routine. Seriously, we're all domestic and crap. Our family's coming back late tomorrow night to mess it up, though. And I don't know how I'm supposed to keep my room clean when I've gotta share it.

Still not sure what to do about the saloon. I mentioned it at work--at my real job--and one of my coworkers said, "You work there?"

Yesterday at work I failed to scale a six, six and a half foot concrete block wall. I even hurt myself trying. That's sad. Either I'm just that outta shape or I'm so fucking tired all the time from never sleeping. Either is completely fucking unacceptable.

I am weak. Weeeeeeeaaaaaaaaak.