First of all, this morning I watched Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure in its excellent entirety as I got ready for work. That means it’s a good day. San Dimas High School Football rules!
Okay, so is this why you never hear about grownups keeping diaries or journals? Life is kind of monotonous and lame when you’re working six days a week. I’m sure you guys are dying to hear all about how somebody ganked some of my cheese out of the company refrigerator, or that the lady in the cubicle next door won’t stop coughing, or that somebody secretly farted in Dan’s office this morning and he wouldn’t go in there for like an hour cuz it reeked so bad. Fascinating stuff, I assure you. However, I will be on Show Me St. Louis on Thursday with people from my other job, so that should be fun.
I’m still sleeping like four hours a night. Hell, if P Diddy can do it, so can I.
My brother and sister-in-law are still here. It’s actually kind of fun. We went to the zoo yesterday and it was awesome. But here’s something that really, really pisses me off: my sister-in-law has a medical condition that can’t be diagnosed or fixed. At all. You’d think that with all of the advances in science and technology, they could at least pinpoint the problem after, oh, seven fucking years of tests. I mean, I know they’re not brain surgeons or anything, but – oh wait, they ARE brain surgeons. That’s right, every single year, the top neurologists and brain surgeons in the world gather for a conference, and at every single one, they discuss my sister-in-law. And they’re clueless. Note to brain surgeons: you have officially been replaced by rocket scientists as the Smartest People Alive. You know what second place is? Number Two. You know what Number Two is? Poop. I will say this about my sister-in-law, though: she is the best at everything she does – school, work, and baffling the medical community. It’s not like she’s dying, so this isn’t some horrible entry, it’s just me ranting, so don’t worry. But maybe they’ll name it after her, whatever IT is.
Um… so on a lighter note, apparently I AM right about everything… at least according to Ex Boyfriend. Supposedly, he wants to move here to be with me because he can’t, like, live without me or whatever. J Note to boys: girls are always, always right about everything. Unless they are brain surgeons.
WYLD STALLYNS!!! Excellent!! *air guitar*
Secretly Stephie 