Fucking exhausted. We had to dash over to Fairview when R got out of work because the new swanky pen I bought him leaked all over his khaki pants' pocket and his orientation at Kelly is tomorrow. We bought him a nice olive pair of Dockers and a nice beige-y silk-feeling dress shirt and I bought him a green tie, and argued for 10 minutes with the sales chick about the discounts, because she obviously didn't know the diff between flat fronted and pleated pants, and it was the PLEATED that were 40% off, dammit! (Anyway, I GOT my 40% off, or Rick's 40% off, or whatever, and the tie worked out to be about 70% off, double-discounted. Hooray! I screwed the system!) Anyway, he starts at IBM on Monday, and everyone at work is sad he's leaving but still happy for him, and so am I.
I got an email last week from the government internship program, inviting me to write the second stage of testing for the labour relations internship. That was today. I talked to the "proctor" (who in their RIGHT MINDS would give someone the title "proctor"??? Unless it's associated with "anal." Not that it's much better than "invigilator," which always makes me think of sperm), and she said there had been 260 applicants or so, 60 invited to write the communications test, and then there will be 30 to interview and 10 get jobs. I'm not expecting to get it, because I was the youngest in the room by about 5 years, and other people had their M.I.R.s, but SHIT man, my essay was fucking GREAT. So I'm just proud of how far I've gotten, compared to all the advanced people I'm competing with. Whether I get the job or not, I know I'm moving up. Blow THAT out your asses, Public Service!
Off to write up the IR stuff or class. Ciao.
Readin' nothing really
Listenin' to the news in the other room
Thinkin' about moving out on our own
Most recently I was 
