Thursday, November 16, 2006

10:52 a.m.

Coworkers and I exchanged obligatory cordial greetings as they walked by.

THEM: “How ya doin’?”

ME: “Good.”

I’M NOT GOOD! I hate being here today! RRRRR! What is it about Tuesdays and Thursdays that make everything so fucking difficult? For your convenience, I’m organizing this rant into sections.

TRAFFIC: My office is like 10 minutes away from my house. But thanks to Suckramento traffic, if I leave exactly one minute later than 7:45, I’m fucked, and 10 minutes late. Today I left four minutes late. Thank you, ugly-ass fucking Ford Taurus (the really curvy one) for not only neglecting to signal, but SLOWLY turning in front of me to what, park on the fucking sidewalk near the underpass? Fuck you, you slow, clueless fuck. You deserved my finger and you deserved my horn. Fuck you, hag in the gold Honda minivan. Why don’t people signal during rush hour? Fuck Sacramento and fuck its horrible drivers. I’m over it. I’m done with the miserable commute to arrive promptly at a job which, honestly, right now, I’m about as done with as an ex-boyfriend that keeps calling and showing up when you just don’t want to deal with him anymore, or an apartment that you just moved out of, and STILL have to go back and clean.

And seriously, where the fuck did all the traffic come from, is it CSUS? Haven’t they figured out that 8am class is a bad idea and dropped by now? All I know is, I was fine before the fucking metered light to the freeway.

I won’t go too far into this; everyone has heard traffic rants before. Craig’s List is full of them. But just remember this: 1) Get the fuck out of the way if you don’t know where you’re going. If you accidentally get into a turning lane, fuck you, too bad. 2) Wait your fucking turn and stop being a selfish prick. 3) Stop trying to be a bad ass when you drive a shitty car. We see you darting in and out of lanes in your 1982 Tercel hatchback, and let me tell you, we’re all really fucking impressed.

CLOTHES: First of all, I hand wash some of my clothes. Not having on-site laundry affects my clothes-handling decisions, and what I will or won’t entrust to the corroded commercial washers of the Laundromat. Today I’m wearing some items that I hand washed. Why do they smell like a dirty skank’s asshole? I know they’re clean, but man alive, my coworkers must think I have a side job. Seriously. I feel like I just wiped my ass with a dirtier ass.

Secondly, the shirt I’m wearing is too small around my chest (most things are too small around my chest) and strains the buttons. All day I have to worry about inadvertently flashing people. I don’t give free shows anymore.

MONEY: Money is the source of all evil. People say that money and love both make you do things you don’t want to do. (Drugs should be added to that.) I’m sick of worrying about bills, collections, rent, stuff I need to buy, fucking Christmas, school tuition, not starving while I’m in school, stuff I want to buy/do but can’t because I’m being thrifty or overextending myself.  

PEOPLE: Some people really annoy the piss out of me. The stupids, the trashies, the fucking slit-my-wrist-with-a-pencil emos (life is so HARD and SAD. I just can’t TAKE it anymore), the trustafarians, white people with dreds, thugs, wanna-be thugs, yuppies, white-sicans (white people pretending to be Mexican), people who fuck up and try to blame it on others, municipal/state workers that don’t do shit (not to be confused with the ones that are actually productive) vacuous drama-riddled bitches, mendicants, and people who bitch about everyone else (me). Am I leaving anything out? I guess I’m a total misanthrope today. I hope I snap out of it. I’m supposed to be a humanitarian and all…how is that possible if I hate people sometimes?

I have nothing positive to say today, and reading happy blogs is much less interesting than the negative ones.