i am so FUCKING tired of bearing the brunt of somebody else's fuckups. my car insurance: farmer's SUCKS. the guy i bought the blue meanie from: still has not sent my, oh, TITLE. where is pride and professionalism any more? -like going to a diner and watching the workers amble around vapidly with empty hands while all around them is shit that needs to be done. i am a high-strung bitch, i admit it, but FUCK.
i also, in review, write quite inarticulately when peeved.
this is a reason why i could probably not be able to live in new orleans without going fucking mad: i want things done yesterday. the pace of life is very fucking slow there- a more positive soul would consider it 'relaxed' and 'unhurried'- and my first day there i found it refreshing and pleasant, a fitting accompaniment to the unctuous clime. by my last day? i was in a sour mood already, not wanting to leave, and therefore allowing stupid crap to annoy me, but the drawly chitchatty cashiers and meandering pedestrians and painstaking counting out of my change was becoming NOT acceptable. i found myself fidgeting obnoxiously with a surly look on my face, which immediately made me feel like a total asshole, which led to embarrassment, which made it very nice to come back to silly old seattle, where people walk quickly and stare determinedly into space and would just as soon enucleate you with their fucking umbrella as ask you how your day's going, HON.
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i should probably not be typing right now. i am dripping pissiness onto the library keyboard. this is better than dripping piss onto the library keyboard.
one good thing: the radio was just playing 'november rain.' break out the bic. that is a fucking great song.
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