ugh. so i guess even though my resume was straight forward, homeboy didn't want to hire me today. OH WELL. things could be worse. there's still a small (as in 1/1,000,000) chance i might get hooked up with some sort of employment if he doesn't find anyone better within the week, but i'm pretty sure dude just told me to email him next week so he didn't completely squash my dreams/day/life. whatever, i'm over it.
i have a suntan. a bitchin' curly side pony tail. got my writings done today without too much hassle. have an appointment to check a pretty rad apartment tomorrow. am getting hooked up to work a promo/press gig for some local band (who omg get this, WANT TO PAY ME). shit's aight. i'll get a job. at least now i don't have to worry about asking time off right away for p4k and arlo-visits-jodi-best-day-of-her-life-july-8-2010.
AND, i'm listening to andrew bird. who i haven't listened to in quite some time. andrew bird & the mysterious production of eggs is a fantastic record that i continuously overlook, forgetting how the simple delicate whistlin ditties can make me feel a-ok. i like feeling a-ok, makes me swivel around in my denim jumper and meow loudly to my cat. she likes this.
optimism. that's my newest goal. even when shit reeks stronger than portapotty row at lollapalooza on a 90 degree day, just fucking breathe through your mouth. eat the shit particles. then it don't smell so bad. and you can just smile you a fool, skip down the lane and pretend it's ok.
sooner or later, it eventually is again anyway.
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