OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG. What is your standard deviation? I took a huge handful of vitamins thinking they were Jelly Belly jellybeans. Whoops. No es piÃ±a colada! No es popcorn! Throw your hands in the air. How is it possible that a jellybean can taste like popcorn? We are so alone in the universe.
I decided not to get a job since something better came up. The moral: complain on the internet, and ye shall receive! I am moving to Tahiti! If I’m going to have syphilis, that’s the place to have it. Ok, I’m not moving to Tahiti. I am redecorating. There is a new condo building being built across the street, and they painted the entry way “goldenrod.” So I went over and painted sort of a seafoam over that. That’ll teach them. *I* have to look at that entry way, not them!
Uh. Where was I. Syphilis. Yes. This is the thing to have. I got mine from using the toilet after Lindsay Lohan. What? You don’t have the sif? Get on the stick! Sorry, sorry, I have this brain tumor that presses on my vulgarity center. It doesn’t feel as good as you would think.
Have I told you all lately how AMAZING my life is? My husband is just the handsomest man. I never thought I’d grow up to marry him! Everything is so wonderful, I can’t even tell you. It’s beautiful, just amazing. AMAZING. We had wood-grilled pizza the other night. It was just gorgeous. I’m so happy.
Yes, I am taking vitamins! Tom Cruise was right. They are AMAZING. What? I’m not supposed to take them all at once? Oh.
As I continue the grueling process of hunting for a job (day 2!!!), I’ve narrowed down my options to the following:
1. GeneralÃsimo, small island nation preferred
2. Writing whiny Chick Lit about how hard it is to be a chick/hip mother
3. Leader of spaceship religion, retaining all merchandise rights
4. Tony Robbins
I don’t want any of the jobs on Monster.com or Craigslist. I am too sensitive to work for someone who indicates they want to hire a “profetional” or commands that “salary commiserate with experience.” My heart, my heart. My Chicago Manual of Not Being a Douche Bag.
Shit. I am supposed to be using my time to write an episode of “Law & Order: They Had It Coming.” More vitamins, please.