I Have Nothing To Say

A couple weeks ago, a friend so kindly reminded me that it had been a while since I last posted.
I know.

I know.

And here I am, with nothing to say because holy balls, I am exhausted.

I missed a blog fest that I was very much looking forward to participating in because it was about crushes which meant I would be able to write about boys and my crushes and God knows I've had more than my share of those in this lifetime. 
But alas...I suck.

Here's what's been going on.

I got a job.

Wheeeeeeee!

This is huge mainly because I've been unemployed for a year now, and I'm very poor.  And now?  I'm still poor but employed and managing to pay my rent so that I don't have to move into a refrigerator box.
Here's what's awesome about my job:

1. I'm allowed to say the F word as often and as loudly as I like.  Not only is this allowed, it is encouraged and cheered.  And I?  Have a potty mouth.  Yay for the F word!

2. The owner sought me out to meet me and called me one of his daughters.  This has never happened to me before.  This is not what I am used to.  This is awesome.

3.  Boys.  They are everywhere, and they dominate the business.  Which is awesome since pretty much the only daily access to boys I've had in a year has been on TV shows and let's face it-Damon and Stefan probably won't be showing up at my door anytime soon.

Hey, look!  I got to talk about boys after all!  ;)

Things that suck about my job:

1.  Traffic.  TRAFFIC.  To and from, an hour each way at least.  And I'm only twenty minutes away!

Let me tell you about traffic.  Traffic is a lot like football.  Something that should take ten minutes is guaranteed to turn into a full hour.  But while football can sometimes be edge-of-your-seat, the only exciting part of my drive is that dude over there, analyzing the booger he just picked.  Who picks their nose in traffic??  People can see you, even if you're not looking.  Duh.

Oh, and you, the asshat behind me.  I'd feel much better if I could see your freaking headlights so I know they're not about to ram up my ass.

Then there's those people who see a fender bender and get all 'OMG, did you SEE the size of that dent?  It's like the size of my PINKIE finger!  Let's slow down so we can get a better look because by golly, it's the apocalypse'.

And the fender benders happen because of the asshats who stop so close to the car in front of them that their headlights are no longer visible. 

These people probably stop too close because they're too busy analyzing their own snot rockets to realize they should hit the brakes before their four door sedan becomes an accordian.

Needless to say, my Happy Friday mood tends to sour the second I pull onto the on-ramp.

And that is the worst thing about my job.

Then I come home, change for the gym, go sweat out my bad mood for about an hour and a half, shower off the sweat from said bad mood, scarf down a hastily made dinner, and make it to my laptop about five minutes before I pass out.

How did I have a job and function before???

Now let's add in the time I need to get some writing done so that someday I no longer have to sit in traffic and watch other people eat their nose greens.

Heh.

Once upon a time...

Apologies for this post about nonsense.  Yay F word!