beulahbondo's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Short-sighted Phew. Sweaty. I just swabbed all the decks in my apartment. My mop looks like Sideshow Bob. That's why I bought it. Listening to Beck. The other day I had my eyes examined and as she peered into my iris, my eye doctor laughed and said, "You have a short little optic nerve." What does that mean? Will it shrink as I grow older? Am I only seeing half of things? My summer employment is still up in the air. I've had two stinging rejections. My backup is in place, though--the place where I worked last summer. Yes, I was miserable there, but this year if I have to go back my expectations will be in the right place and I won't (I hope) be so disappointed by the styrofoam food trays and the segregation of English-speaking and non-English speaking staff and the primacy of the weekly pub run and the utter lack of privacy and the staff sent home for drunken sexual assault and the cliquishness. And the beetles dropping on my head from the ceiling of my shack. But the job I'm crossing fingers for...well, I won't even jinx it. All I will say is Truro. Happy birthday to Bacchus. Remember last year, B, when you came to work with your paw all wrapped up in a cast after your brother visited? Was it like that again? Yours, 5:31 p.m. - 2005-04-17 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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