sevensurge

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Halloween was more or less a success. I worked eight long hours on Saturday night, and didn't get home until after midnight. At first I was really pissed that I had less than two hours to party at home and party downtown, but then I remembered that clocks rolled back, so three hours was enough time. This super sexy gym teacher in her mid-50s partied hard, although I'm sad to report that I was having one of those nights where I can drink and drink and never feel a damn thing. At the end of the night, while roaming through a bar, I ran into a coworker of mine who was beyond drunk. I love this girl, and she loves me, so she bought us a round of Blackhaus shots. That just so happens to be the shot that heavily contributed to my birthday coma, so it holds a near and dear place in my heart.

Apparently my battle cry of "DOWN WITH DOUCHEBAGGERY!" is not having the effect that I intended it to have. What was meant to drive away any and all sources of meaningless drama and unnecessary crap from my life has somehow become easily ignorable for the masses. Lately I've been desperately clinging to certain memories from my not-too-distant past, but after one particular brush with douchebaggery this evening, I've let it all go. The voicemails have been deleted. The screenname has been blocked. I very rarely resort to this sort of behavior, but sometimes I just don't have a choice. Life is just too goddamn short to deal with the gigantic assholes of this world.

The only thing keeping me going right now is the knowledge that in seven short hours I will be sitting in my college's chapel, listening to some dork talk about his local information systems company.

Oh wait a minute...

No, my bad, tomorrow morning's lecture just makes me want to shoot myself in the ear and call it even.

Dammit.

I'm Listening To:
One Thing I Did Today:

Monday, Nov. 01, 2004 at 1:33 AM

before :: after