Tuesday, January 20, 2004
From 'Valley of the Dolls'
"I'd marry anyone who'd give me a nice beaver coat, a part-time maid, and let me sleep 'til noon each day."
No fucking shit. I'm not sayin', I'm just sayin'.
So I asked for the raise and didn't low ball myself. He didn't balk exactly, but he made it clear that A) I deserved it. but, B) He can't afford it.
So I'm getting something and we're dicussing it after the weekend. The weekend, for which I live. So sad, it's come to this.
Goddamn. I really need to go to bed. Am I out of my bloody mind? Why am I still conscious?
Ok. Night night.
Monday, January 19, 2004
Turning off the tv is the hardest thing I do every day. And I don't even have cable. I don't even have good reception.
I'm feeling sort of...not blue exactly. Taupe? Red's mad. Green's jealous. Yellow is decidedly chicken. White is, too, but in a stunned sort of way. Orange sounds sunny, and anyway it reminds me of that ridiculous business with the Alert. Black is far too morose for what I'm feeling.
That's just it. I'm not exactly feeling anything. I thought yoga would put me more in my body, to use a sort of theraputic term. But it really hasn't. I just have sore ass and arms.
Oh dear, therapy tomorrow. I missed last week and will have to pay double. I have one hell of a time getting and staying there. I feel bored. A defense, probably, but it doesn't really feel like one. More like I could be better using my time. The Red Cross. Feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, finding housing and anti-psychotics for those on the streets. But I'd end up shopping for shoes and bath products, I suspect.
It's like a fucking shvitz box in here. I can't regulate the heat very well, and I hate waking up cold in the morning. It's hardly conducive to getting up, in spite of what some people say. I don't find it invigorating, I just want to curl up for longer with the dog.
To bed! To bed! Tomorrow I ask for an 8 dollar raise. Believe me, it's still not enough. Not by a fucking long shot, and he knows it.