self-indulgent.

Life is a lot more fun with these 3 things.

I'm not going to write about education for awhile. (Stop it. I can SEE your fist in the air. I can HEAR you rolling your eyes.) All I'm going to say is: I'm completely burnt out, Reader(s). Really fighting to not slide into a depression. Made an appointment to talk to a counselor who's been really helpful in the past. Know I need to keep it together, already making some little changes to help myself keep it together. I'm not a quitter, and I have rent to pay. And a really high water bill, which I intend to pointedly question in the leasing office tomorrow. 

But mostly I'm not going to talk about it again for a long while because there is nothing I can do about my job and the things happening in it right now. It is what it is. For now. I will tell you, though, that I went to Craigslist last night to find a job. (Here's a helpful weekend Life Hack, kids: Don't go to Craigslist to find a job.) Unless you're interested in canvassing neighborhoods for odd things or getting up at 3 AM to be some weird night owl's personal assistant. 

Confession: I almost considered applying to be some weird night owl's personal assistant until I came to this part-- 

I am a night owl, therefore I want a morning person that is capable of screening my appointments and setting important meetings for the afternoons. In addition this person will learn my thought process and will be able to make certain decisions on my behalf with limited supervision.

All of that was followed by a list of about 100 Key Skills and Experience requirements, non-negotiable, one must have to even be lightly considered for this amazing job. Translation: read my mind and make me a lot of coffee and psychically know when to bring me bizarre organic foods you'll have to comb the entire city of Atlanta to find. All for $10 an hour or $300 a week. But you'll learn how to manage a (possibly shady) nightclub, since for some reason I felt like this person really just wants to hang out at his/her (possibly shady) nightclub and do shots or whatever. AND they wanted applicants to include a picture, preferably full body. 

Nope, nah, nyet, nein. Already have to do the mind reading stuff at my current job. Plus, if you need a picture of me then you're already a problem boss you shallow bastard, and damn it I want someone to make ME coffee and comb the city for bizarre things for ME. When do I get a personal assistant?

So let's talk about....let's do a meme. Something dumb and pointless and mindless and overly self-indulgent. I've had a shit week. You're okay with me being stupidly self-indulgent for a bit, yes? (Ha, see, that's a rhetorical question because blogs in and of themselves are self-indulgent places of dumb Me-doms.) 

Three Things Each

3 wishes: 

*To do storytelling for a living.

*For my daughter to grow up strong and healthy and do something for a living that makes her ridiculously happy.

*To have access to a Joe Manganiello-lookalike masseuse. For free. Whenever and wherever.

Me in 3 words:

*Irreverent

*Overly dramatic

*Dorky

3 physical features I like in the opposite sex:

*eyes

*hands

*mouth 
(not necessarily in that order)

...Though I'm not really about looks. I like people for their insides. I hope they like me for my insides as well. I think our insides are what make our outsides more palatable.

3 turn ons in the opposite sex:

*intelligence

*irreverent humor

*kindness

3 turn offs:

*trying too hard

*smothering

*general, all around dickheadedness (including, but not limited to: hypocrisy, shallowness, racism, far right wing conservative views, and fundamentalist thinking of any kind)

3 great pick up lines:

*Love, if you have to use a pick up line on me, I'm already bored.

(...that line wasn't a great pick up line. That was me, Amy, pleading: Human beings! No more pick up lines! Dumb Dora.)

3 things I'd really like right now:

*a year-long sabbatical vacation near some water

*a personal assistant/nanny

*someone to wrap me in their arms, hold me, and tell me everything'll be okay

...but right after a wild night of debauchery.

Okay. I'm done. Self-indulgery concludes here. 

If I have energy and can find time to address some pressing work issues I let slide because of the screwy jackassery that was this week, all before Sunday night gets here and mourning my existence begins yet again, I'll come back and write something with an actual writerly and/or storytelling theme. I have some things I'd like to say about Eros. 

But if you don't hear from me, it'll be because I'm(1) inundated with pressing work issues, (2) pretending I don't actually have to work and therefore don't have a job, or (3) I'm lying very still in a corner, in fetal position, cradling a wine bottle whilst struggling to see through a veil of stinging, salty tears. 

(In all honesty? It'll probably be #2, though. Because I have 3 secret talents: falling asleep in cars when someone else is driving [every time!], Oscar-worthy acting my way through Life without a script, and pretending I don't have a job. In fact, if there was a job that was called Pretending Not to Have a Job, I'd be about CEO-level at this point in my career; highly sought after, routinely honored. And yes! I'd absolutely post weird Craigslist ads for personal assistants.)