Go home luggage, you're drunk.

"TAKE ME FOR A SPIN"

No I will not take you for another spin on the dance floor, Judy. You've had too much to drink and you've been actin' a fool all night long. I can't believe you even left the house wearing head-to-toe paisley in the first place. Frankly, this midlife crisis has gotten out of control.

Bad Life Choice #52: Voluntary Amputation

Sometimes I regret all the bad choices I have made in life, even though I didn't see better alternatives at the time. Then I thought of that guy who cut off his own arm to save his life. Under normal circumstances, spontaneously amputating your own limbs would be classified as a Bad Life Choice. But for this guy, it's probably the best decision he ever made. I bet he never goes around wishing he hadn't cut off his arm.

Then there are those people who want to be amputated for no apparent reason.

I don't know where I'm going with this except that I hope I am more like Aron Ralston and less like sufferers of BIID. Because sometimes cutting off your own arm is the only way to get unstuck. But sometimes it's just going to make it really hard to play the accordion.

One crappy sock per crappy job. How fitting. Or not at all, apparently.

Five months with nary an interview, and now I have four jobs. And was just offered another one out of the blue, which I obviously had to decline for scheduling reasons. I hardly know what to complain about anymore.  Oh wait... no. I'll start with sock liners...

Is there a reason it's so hard to get low-cut sock liners right? We can put a man on the moon, but we can't make socks that don't show?

Cute.

 By the way, clothes-makers? "Nude" color never looks nude. FYI.

A rare instance when polka dots don't make it better.

...But that doesn't mean you should just throw in the towel and make it patterned!

It's like you're not even trying.

 Why is this so hard?!

Seriously?!

Now you're just mocking me.

Doctor's Orders

-Eww, why are we marketing hospital sheets to consumers? Nobody likes hospitals. Nobody wants hospital anything.

-What if we put this guy on the package?

-I will buy those sheets. I will buy anything he prescribes.

-I will buy that zebra Snuggie.

-Yes Doctor, I will increase my Spam intake.

-Give me all of your tiny useless boxes, stat.

In seven more days I will likely be married, deathly ill, and a unicorn.

Last Wednesday: Started a new job that I was unexpectedly offered just two days earlier and that I had all but written off after interviewing two months ago.

Friday: Was suddenly informed by my landlord that he is selling the condo where I have been living for only eight months after moving five times in as many years and determining not to move again for at least a year.

Sunday: My roommate moved out. At least that was expected.

I'm glad for the job, and I'm glad my roommate will be reunited with her husband, but this week is just a compact slice of the last five years of constant change. And the condo... I almost cried.

I didn't realize how much I liked this crappy place until now that I have to leave. As much as I make fun of the hot tub under the skylight surrounded by "fancy" white pillars and decidedly non-fancy exercise machines, it really is so peaceful. And with all the old people here, the pool rarely gets taken over by screaming children and I often have it all to myself. And who's going to water my plants while flirting with my upstairs neighbor playing catch with his adorable four-year-old son if I'm not here?!

But I think the worst part is just moving again. I remember when I used to have actual hobbies, like sewing and baking... for the last five years my downtime has largely been spent researching jobs/apartments/roommates/churches, filling out forms, packing, unpacking, etc. I will be happy to never spend another weekend moving my belongings from one place to another place. It's enough to tempt me to get rid of everything and live under a bridge.

Seriously... is there some reason I'm not allowed to have stability in my life, no matter how I try?!

Amputee dragons are still dragons.

Umm why has a river parade never occurred to me before? And why is this not happening at every major river?! I am totally starting this in my town and riding this dragon:

Amputee dragons are still dragons.

The only problem I foresee is with the marching band. They're going to have to wear Aqua Joggers, and still the music is probably going to sound like crap because there will be water in the tuba and the drummers won't be able to move their arms at the correct tempo and let's not even talk about the marching in step part.

Other than that, this river parade is gonna rule. I'll be waving at you from my giant snake amputee dragon.

The New Gerbil: An Academic Paper, Obviously

I decided to write an abstract for my blog, since it's never been properly introduced. Remember, an abstract is like a little story...

Once upon a time, college degrees were useful all by themselves. That time passed, but the memo was not. This causes our heroine, Abra Hagans*, to be upset and start a blog with a readership of ≤2. This blog begins with a review of unfavorable life circumstances directly or indirectly caused by the uselessness of a college degree. Suddenly, without warning, the blog disappears for years!! Later, back-dated entries mysteriously compensate for years of missing data. Then, unfathomably, the blog disappears for a second time while rumors circulate about Abra's enrollment in graduate school!! In an unexpected turn of events, the second section of the blog exposes not the seedy underbelly of an actual career, but questionable merchandise sold by a chain retailer. Further research is needed in the areas of homelessness, C-PTSD, and miracles. Sallie Mae is living happily ever after.

*Names have been changed to protect the author's paranoia