Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow

So sad that Obama's grandmother died the day before her grandson was (most likely) elected president.

First day of work today. I'm so fucking exhausted. But it was good, and most of all I'm pleased that everyone was a fervent Obama supporter. So I think I'll fit in.

Tomorrow is the day that everything changes.

Jorb?

Eep! I start my new job on Monday. Panic is setting in. I'm making a bulleted list of the things that I'm panicking over, because I find bulleted lists comforting:

• Arriving at 9:30 am. That means I have to wake up at 7:30 to make sure the subway takes me there on time. Because I must be the only person in all of Manhattan who actually LEAVES MANHATTAN to get to her job. I'm doing it wrong.
  
• Running out of clothes in the first week. Boyfriend and I made two mad dashes to acquire business-y clothes during the Time of Interviews. But I still only have three pairs of pants and three shirts. One of those pairs of pants does not match any of those shirts. Don't get me started on what shoes I don't have. And I *really* can't put more onto my credit card. Really.
  
• Will you be my friend? I miss my friends. I had a lot of friends. Now most of them are a nine-hour train ride away. I know it's not always best to mix work and pleasure, but I would really like to make at least one good work friend. I need friends again. Or a drinking buddy. Maybe a dealer (perhaps you can guess what sorts of jobs I have held in the past).
  
• Eventually causing a huge scene. I have a temper. And a strong tendency to resist orders. I have been known to be, ahem, outspoken. This has been problematic in the past (although it has never gotten me fired. If anything, it's almost always gotten me what I've wanted. I suppose this is why I continue to behave this way). But these people seem so nice, and I hate the idea that I may snap on them.
  
• Don't touch me. One time, at one of many jobs I held in college, I was sexually harassed to the point that I had to report it (oh, I think I've been sexually harassed in EVERY job. But this one was pretty serious. As in, stop touching my tits/ass and stop removing your wedding ring and directly asking me to fuck you). So I prefer to work with and for women. You may think this sexist, but if that's your stance, you can eat shit. This boss is a young-ish male. He seems like a decent guy, but I shall be in a state of cat-like readiness.
• Lunch. Brown sack or invite co-worker to lunch? Or perhaps bring a brown sack, but wait for co-worker to ask first? Okay, I'm going with the latter. How do I pay for a lunch if she asks me out? Shit.
  
• Vacay. I need to ask off for two days in November for which I had previously planned to leave town. I haven't earned vacation time yet. I sort of assumed that they would be flexible, but my stomach is in knots thinking that for some reason they won't be. Or they will be offended that I asked. Yipe!
• Being a big fucking white-trash weirdo. I already sort of stalked one of my new co-workers on facebook. She went to two Ivy League schools. I may appear out of place (note to self: refrain from mentioning your love of Pabst, your knowledge of farm-animal castration, and try not to pick your teeth with a pen cap). Also, I may hate her, depending on how wrapped up she is in her privilege. But maybe I'm making false assumptions here. Maybe she isn't privileged at all. Maybe she's one of those people who was homeless and then pulled herself up by the bootstraps to achieve her dreams. Psh, yeah right.
• Being a liberal douche-bag. Sometimes when I meet other people in academia, I just sort of assume that they are all a bunch of bleeding-hearts like me. And then it turns out that I'm wrong. So I really need to keep that in check.

I feel comforted now. Sort of. Aw, I've soiled myself again.

Good morning, Monday

A bit of spoken word music for your Monday morning, courtesy of Sarah Palin and Katie Couric:



This is my last week as a slobbering, unemployed putz! So I'm enjoying loafing around in my pajamas with no bra,and watching viral videos, as much as possible.

Annnnnnnywho, enjoy the Monday.

The end of an era

...Sort of? I have not been without a job since I was 14 years old. I have been known to keep two jobs at once. And yet, after an unfortunate and traumatizing incident with graduate school (see comments section in "Epiphany!") , I have been unemployed for almost four months. There has been much mooching off of the Boyfriend, which has made my feminist self very unhappy.

Some good things came out of the Great Unemployment, like this blog. And a close and personal bond with my pet bunny (he's litter trained AND he responds to voice command. That's good bondin'). But now, thankfully, it's time to move off of my crumb-encrusted couch, turn off my Simpsons season 4-7 DVDs, and put my pants back on (if I can find them). Because today I accepted a job offer.

Because I want to keep my blog as anonymous as possible, and because I want to avoid getting Dooced (although that worked out well for her in the end, didn't it?), I probably won't reveal much about my working life. I guess I can say that I'm involved in academia, and that it involves Psychology, because I've already revealed that much in past entries. And it helps to know that information in order to understand my extreme nerdiness.

But I promise that even though eight hours of my day will soon be consumed by other activities, you can rest assured that I will still have an endless supply of things to write about ENTIRELY IN CAPS LOCK BECAUSE IT MAKES ME SO FUCKING MAD. Because those things never go away.

Plus, if I use this blog as an outlet, I have a lesser risk of alienating my future co-workers with insane ranting. Or maybe, if I get really lucky, my co-workers will be just as crazy as me, and we can rant together, like a bevy of homeless schizophrenic bag-ladies.

I don't start for a few weeks, but I'm celebrating today anyway. I'm going out, putting a new coat and hat (I want a cloche!) and boots on my already-bloated credit card, and then buying me a Max Brenner hot chocolate, because that shit is DE-FUCKING-LICIOUS. What now, Economy? What now?