The world is a crazy place. We had so much rain here in Seattle on Monday that no one, and I mean no one, got out without everything they carried being completely drenched. Things are still damp today. My boots have a spot of mold growing on the tongue, and the leather has tightened so I must break them in again. My gum, sitting in my purse, which was sitting in my backpack, got damp and the pieces stuck together and to the side of the box. Everyone's textbooks and notes have serious water damage. It's quite impressive.
Of all the shows in the past...month, I think, that I wanted to attend, I've gone to one. And I left early because I was tired. This is a sad state of affairs. I haven't been insanely depressed about it, though. Don't know why.
I've been busy. I feel like I don't have much free time, then I end up with plenty. My housemates would like to crucify me for lack of prompt dish-doing, although I don't neglect the kitchen entirely. Not at all. I'm just pushed into the corner on this matter because one must make allowances for living with other people, y'know. A 24-hour rule has been instituted, with leaving dirty dishes in your room as a loophole. Which I suppose is fair, I just don't like it. I don't know why, but having rules like that bothers me. For some reason, the institution comes off as my housemates telling me I don't do my share and they all do everything, which isn't the case--the insinuation or the actuality. People just...tend to think that when they do something, they are the only ones doing it.
Anyway, just a bad taste in my mouth.
People are getting on my nerves in lots of little, subtle ways. Nobody's perfect.
I haven't updated in ages. On my last movie-renting jaunt, I had Dead Man saved for last. I loved it. Particularly the scene where the two sheriff dudes are wandering around and see Johnny Depp wandering around and one of them points a pistol at him and yells, "Hey, aren't you William Blake?" Johnny Depp calmly steps forward and responds, "I am. Do you know my poetry?" and shoots the guy in the head.
In my journalism ethics class, we watched a screener copy of Shattered Glass the distribution company sent to my prof. It was pretty good. My prof hoped it would spawn discussion, which it has, so I guess it served its purpose. I don't think I would've paid to see it in the theater, but it's a decent flick.
Now I want to see The Station Agent.
I started volunteering in the psych ward at Children's Hospital this week. I observe for two hours a week and am supposed to learn something about charting and the presentation of various mental disorders. This week, I observed the older kids, most of whom were girls with eating disorders. It was pretty interesting.
On Monday night, the fuse controlling the circuit that supplies power to half the house blew when a super-duper space heater got plugged in and the compressor on the evil, shitty old-new fridge kicked on at the same time. I didn't sleep well since I was awakened at midnight so I could find an alternate alarm (yay for cell phones) to get up at 6 for work. I didn't take a shower because I wasn't sure if there was, in fact, hot water, and it was too dark to see anything. I used my lighter--devoid of adequate lighter fluid, so I was going by sparks here--to make sure my clothes were the correct color coordinations. The only reason I wasn't in the bitchiest mood ever was Kevin stayed over and drove me to work, stopping to let me get coffee and a muffin on the way.
I don't really have anything to talk about. The biggest dork of a lab user is here now and I hope above hopes that he doesn't ask me anything. About a week ago, Chris and I encountered this, our favorite lab patron, requesting our boss's business card. Our favorite lab patron is prone to asking endless stupid questions with an annoying tone of voice; I've taken to being curt and playing dumb with him. That's old news.
Anyway, on this particular day, Chris and I decided to play dumb about whether or not the boss had cards (he does). Chris went into his office to ask if he had any business cards, trying to subtly imply that boss's answer should be, "Gosh, no, haven't got any of those!" loud enough for annoying lab user to hear.
But boss didn't get the message and said sure, they're right there in front of you, Chris! And of course lab user can hear this. Chris gave lab user a card, but as soon as he walked away, we went into boss's office and told him: "Headphones guy wanted your card! We were trying to give you an out!" Boss laughed and said he hadn't gotten that message, and at least the card didn't have his home phone number. Sheesh.
Now I'm starving and it's probably another half hour before any coworkers arrive. Meh. Oh well. My brother should come online and talk to me.