Let's see. I haven't made it to the cable place to reduce our services yet. It can wait until Monday. Looks like unemployment is transferrable across state lines, so I'm free to move. My company-sponsored iPod came today. It's shiny. I'm driving south tomorrow to see my family. And huzzah, it's Friday.
I went through an old file box last night. It was full of papers from college, loads of notes written in a precise hand, front to back, littered with encouraging lines -- mostly, to self from self. Things like, "Christy, ol' gal, don't forget this formula!" Then there were bank statements and bills, letters from friends I never see, a couple of meaningless awards printed on thick paper, and old scholarship essays. Essays where I guessed someday I'd see the world and get a doctorate in psychology or such nonsense, all while working on a cruise ship and pursuing my true love: volunteering, and possibly, cross-stitch. I was just stringing words together, hoping to strike a chord with the one judge who could bankroll my entire education with a flick of the wrist. "Yes, give the million to her. Did you see? She cross-stitches!" But alas, I'm still paying off school, and will remain thus ensnared by debt until 2010-2015.
I wonder if my scholarship essay would've benefited from a little sexing up? Extracurricular activities: base jumping, wake boarding, tantric yoga...
Hmm. Perhaps it's not too late to learn from past mistakes. My resume might benefit from some sexy embellishments. Job duties: Proofreading sexy documents, publishing a sexy website, and reviewing sexy Functional Specifications. Oh baby, yeah baby. Will work for sexy paychecks and 401K matching.
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