inkgrrl's inkblog

Uck. I just experienced what has to take a top-level slot in the Journal of Regrettable Food Combinations: for lunch I had a diet chicken alfredo – the meat bits were fine, as were the noodles, but the sauce was a translucent, mucilegous goo that I just know was extracted from the left nostril of an irritated moose somewhere in Canada. To wash it down I made the unfortunate choice of pouring myself a styrofoam (boo, hiss) cup of office coffee that had already been in existance about three hours too long, and resembled nothing so much as the rusty leavings in the bottom of an ancient gas tank with an espresso bean waved over them at an altitude of about five miles for flavor. The two combined managed to prove that sometimes the whole is greater than the sum of its parts, at least when referring to the unholy synergy of certain sorts of food and drink. Uck. I need to go eat a Pop-Tart now.

Newsflash: Boring, Passive Work May Hasten Death

Well, duh! I could’a told you that. My entire dayjob existance in 2001 probably took at least three years off my life, in a very passive (yet aggressive) fashion. My new boss asked me yesterday why I want to work here (as part of a conversation wherein I once AGAIN brought up the subject of when they’re gonna hire me – it’s a contract-to-perm thang) and all I could say was, “‘Cuz it’s wacky fun!”

It’s obvious that senescence has already set in.

Thanks to Leather Egg for my blogging code: B6 d++ t k+ s+ u f i+ o+ x- e- l c+

Now that I’ve completed the self-definition phase of my young life, I can move on to being a capitalist pig.