Sunday, June 05, 2005

Sleeping with Destiny OR Did I Say You Could Die? OR Even More Proof I Have A Vagina

Yesterday I had to work (no surprise there). I finally got to sleep around 5:30 a.m., and JR IMed me (straight to da new cell phone) at 6 a.m., so I half-coherently chatted with him for a few minutes. Then I went back to bed, woke up around 9 and went to the sorority car wash of fun.

Tina went home for the weekend, and Destiny quickly took over my bed. She's all attention-deprived because I had the car wash and work all day, so she keeps reminding me by running her head into my hand at every available opportunity. Yes, Destiny is Tina's baby cat. I love this cat, but sometimes I just want to type in peace.

Today started out as a pretty routine busy day: I woke up earlier than I wanted, gave fresh water to the chinchilla and the birds, and kissed the cat goodbye. All in a day's work.

After the car wash, I came back for a quick 15-minute power nap, which was a BAD idea because I got a sunscreen-sweat combo on my pillowcases, so now I'm washing my sheets. I needed to do that anyway because I brought my red sheets from home, so it's all good. I also DIDN'T burn! I'm slightly less pale, but it's only visible when you can see my tan lines. At least I have tan lines.

Work was surprisingly awesome tonight, which probably had a lot to do with my closing crew: T-Money, the Gregmeister, and Michael. We also had Lisa until 9, so it was all good in the Smyrna Starbucks today. We were really slow at the end, but the night still went by relatively quickly. Neat.

After work, I came home for a nice night of laundry and organizing the endless amount of STUFF I have. Well, I get home to discover Spike (one of the parakeets) is dead in the bottom of the cage.

That's right - the bird up and died for no apparent reason while I was at work. Of course, I called the Tina to find out what to do about this dead bird thing. Now, I have to preface this by listing just a few of the things that don't bother me at all:
*Spiders
*Snakes
*Flesh wounds
*"Your mom" jokes
*Violent explosions


However, I'm really girly about some things, and I just don't have what it takes to dispose of a dead parakeet. Naturally, I called Brandy Is Awesome, who has agreed to come over later to take care of the bird. Thanks Brandy Is Awesome - I knew there was a reason I called you that.

We ran out of Chantico at work today, which gave me the chance to go to the Bell Road store to get some from Nick. We discussed how many hours he has (42) versus how many hours I have (17). Yes, my friends, you may soon be finding me on your local street corner with this sign: "Starving College Student. Will Work for Books."

Hopefully that's all I'll be at the street corner for. Starbucks, if you're reading this, GIVE ME MORE HOURS! Or at least a raise.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Starbucks is shit. I hope you feel terrible everytime you arrive at your bullshit job. People are dying of heat exhaustion in far-off fields picking the beans you carelessly grind for bearded hipsters. They wish they made the meager 7 dollars an hour you make. They wish they could come home every night and document their insignificant lives on a asswipe web page. Feel very bad, knowing that you squander your life on the internet and at a job with such irresponsible business practices. I shall go now, satisfied in knowing that I do not take what I have for granted. Would you like a dollop of whipped topping on your misery latte?

Wendy said...

A) I do not make $7 an hour
B) "AN asswipe Web page" is correct
C) Starbucks does a lot of good in the coffee-growing regions. Health care and education are provided, so I doubt there's a high occurence of people dying of heat exhaustion. It's just my speculation, though.
D) Thank you for commenting on my blog. Visit Neurotically Yours for a funny anti-Starbucks cartoon titled "Small, Medium, Large."

Manda said...

Isn't it nice when they let the impared people out of their tiny closets to bang on the computer every three weeks? I love it lots.

*pats anony's head* Sweet little thing... Back to your foam room now, there's a good dear...

Wendy, I would LOVE a dollop of whipped topping on my misery latte. I really think that it compliments the strange, sweet aftertaste of sweat and blood that has seeped into the beans...