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Gift from Hil Part 2 - 2014-12-30
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There was A LOT of turkey. - 2014-12-04
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9:54 p.m. - 2010-01-12
Cold and Old

Still sick. Spent the last 30 hours or so parked on the couch in the living room. It's a comfy couch. Did something I haven't done in so long I can't remember the last time, I watched TV. I watched A LOT of TV. Yeah, I watch TV upstairs in the bedroom, but it's hardly ever anything but 'Law & Order' reruns or some Food Network show. Mostly 'L&O'. The TV upstairs is hardwired to the cable so it doesn't get all the channels that the big TV downstairs gets through the cable box.

Last night and all of today with the big TV at my disposal I shopped around through the channels, not too rigorously, still ended up at Food Network for a couple hours, but along with Ina and Rachel, I watched a bunch of home and landscaping shows on DIY, some History channel, 2 episodes of 'The Flintstones' on Boomerang, and game shows on GSN. Finally found out how 'Deal or No Deal' works, go me. Because really that's about the extent of my brain's capacity to absorb new info and process it right now. Whoo, am I flighty-headed!

Being knocked on my butt by this cold really couldn't have come at a more convenient time. It's winter, I'm broke, my birthday is in 9 days and it's time for my annual assessment about how I'm wasting my life and losing my looks, so hawking up pounds of phlegm, running a mild fever, barfing, and being forced to stretch out on the couch for a few days because complicated things like standing and walking are exhausting and make me fall down is actually quite handy. Think of the suckage if I were laid out like this and had actual things to do or a job to fret over.

Though being gainfully employed is something I am thinking about. I love being a writer, I'm good at it, but I am missing the assurance of an expected paycheck. As it is I make just enough to almost be worthwhile, but not quite enough to be an official starving artist. My ambitions toward being employed in the real world aren't great. Honestly? I think I'd like to work at the local Dollar Store. I could handle that. I know how to count and am pretty good at hanging things on pegs. Aside from the occasional 2-for-1 or Buy 3 Get 1 items working the register at the Dollar Store is a breeze. There's no uniform. No corporate policy. No secret shoppers. No bargain days. No 'sales events'. No bullshit. Just open boxes, hang stuff on pegs, tidy bins, ring up dead simple purchases, clock out at the end of my shift and go home. No marketing meetings. No training seminars. No commission. 30 hours a week at minimum wage would pump just enough into the bank account that the ex's scattershot approach toward paying the child support wouldn't be such a pain in the patootie and I'd still have plenty of energy leftover for writing and minding the child. Perhaps that will be my birthday gift to myself- a nicely pleasant no brainer job at the Dollar Store. I'm too fucking old and tired to want to set the world on fire anymore. If some kind soul discovers my scribbling and wants to pay me for it on a regular basis, then Yay. Otherwise I can't be arsed to go carve myself some important weighty career or claw my way into some biggety job that sounds good to people I couldn't care less about. At this stage of my life power suits and pantyhose have all the appeal of bikini waxing and are definitely more painful.

Well, that's about all the upright time I can handle. Back to the couch for me. I think there's a Quick Draw McGraw marathon starting on Boomerang. I'd hate to miss that.

Good night. ~LA

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