I’ve gone from zero to over 9,000 and back to zero in a matter of days. I worked for Honest Tea this weekend for the Sweetwater 420 Fest. I love promotional work, and since I’m so deprived of it, I almost get high off of all the interaction and good vibes. Also, working for a vendor at 420 Fest is way better than volunteering for Sweetwater, which I regret to remember I did last year. This time, however, I got free beer and food, and I got paid to do something I love. The only downside to this gig was coming down from the weekend high. Also, I haven’t even been paid for my first shift over a month ago, so I don’t plan to see a paycheck for that or my first freelance makeup artist training session anytime soon.
I found out yesterday that we are downsizing our customer service department, and our fifteen minute coffee breaks will be taken away. This is devastating for me! I use my morning break for stair walking, lunges and stretches, and I do a lap and a half around the office complex for my afternoon break. I can already feel myself getting fatter and more miserable without them. This triggered a “What did I do so wrong to fail this hard?” tantrum. Then I went to watch RuPaul’s Drag Race at Blake’s to cheer myself-up, and my car got booted. Sob.
I’ll go ahead and throw in that my novel, Bakeneko: Mariko’s Dream, got its 14th rejection letter recently, and my school’s literary magazine rejected the series of fridge poems and accompanying prose I submitted for the Spring Issue. Also, I am on the new box for my company’s makeup starter kit…it’s from the clinical trial…of my chin…with a big honking zit. My modeling career is obviously skyrocketing to super stardom.
In case you didn’t know, I’m a ridiculously huge My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic fan, and I have created many bronies out of my homies. We were discussing how we need to find our cutie marks, the pictures on the ponies’ hips that represent their special talent and purpose. Right now, if I were a pony, I’d likely be Derpy Hooves, but instead of a cutie mark on my flank, I’d have the word “FAIL” branded on my ass.
An Easter Song for the Fridge (To Peter Cottontail)
Here comes Prentice, with her pail,
Hopping down the break room trail.
Hippity! Hoppity! Fridge-time’s on its way.
Trashing every girl and boy’s
Boxes full of munch-time joy,
Things that would grow mold if left for days.
She tossed red beans and salami,
Deviled eggs and veggie stew.
Then she threw-out your pastrami,
And your chicken cordon bleu!!
Oh! Here comes P, with that trash pail,
Hopping down that break room trail.
Hippity! Hoppity! Clean that fridge today!