When I went to catch the bus tonight, the first one was sitting there with its doors closed, so I banged very loudly with my palm--loud enough to be heard--on the back door. The driver ignored me, as drivers do, and as it began pulling away, I kicked the door hard with my nice black shoe, and I shattered the entire lower pane of glass.
I feel really bad about it. Really. It'll keep me up nights. I may never sleep again.
On the way home, I saw:
* A man walking a bulldog on a leash, while on the back of the dog perched a tiny kitten with its claws dug in, and its mouth opened wide, squeaking.
* An almost perfect spiral nebula of ants, munching on something sticky.
It is hot, hot, freaking hot here.
I got my Kane CD and will listen to it tomorrow.
"Loser" is a really, really good movie despite its packaging, and it almost reverses my belief that Jason Biggs must have signed a pact with Satan to advance his acting career.
Also, the "Cruel Intentions" soundtrack kicks ass, and Sarah Michelle Gellar was born in 1977. That really surprises me. I honestly thought she was the same age as her character.
This is all so random, I know.
Must remember to watch "Nip/Tuck" tonight. It's so easy to forget to tune in when you're new to a show.
Current books I'm reading: Elizabeth George's latest, "A Traitor to Memory," and my first Connie Willis book, "To Say Nothing of the Dog."
I feel amazingly competent at work lately. I should be making more money. I wish I could figure out how to convey to my manager the full extent of work I perform. Maybe I should cc her on every piece of e-mail I send for an entire week. Kidding. But really, no one ever gets a truly substantial raise at my company, and I am starting to want one. I like where I work, and the job market is lousy--I am not leaving any time soon. The last three people I personally know who left the company (voluntarily, thinking they were making the right move) are all looking for work. I am just coming up on a year as editor (a title that conveys only the tiniest part of what I do). I would like to keep this job for at least another year. It feels pretty safe, as jobs go.
I appreciate, by the way, everyone's comments these last few days. If I could focus my chicken-fried brain, I'd answer some. I am soooooooooo totally work-whacked, it's not even funny.
I want monsters and madmen and severed heads. Why haven't my MST3K tapes come, damn it? Whywhywhywhywhywhywhy? Sigh.