Lames.

Dudes, I just feel fucking lame. My job is lame, and the overtime I've been working towards being totally awesome to make up for the lameness imposed upon my life by my lame job is EXHAUTING! And today I found myself trying to make up for the lameness with ice cream, which seemed like a good idea for a few minutes until I realized it was a fucking awful idea to eat ice cream to feel better. Good thing I realized it...and that my plastic spoon broke. Actually, I broke two plastic spoons. And when two spoons break on you trying to stuff your face full of ice cream to forget about what a lame couple weeks you're having...you take the sign, man. So now I'm sitting here not eating ice cream and thinking about pizza instead. Functional.

Another reason I feel lame is that my grandma passed away last week. I wouldn't say we were close, but we weren't not close either. She lived in New York, and there were family issues, real and fictional (though we didn't truly realize the fictional until I was at her funeral last week, which is a ridiculous 14-year bullshitfest in the making). Anyway, we hadn't really talked in about a year and a half (maybe two - it might've been when I invited her to graduation, which she didn't appear to remember) when I randomly decided to write (and SEND, crazily enough) a letter to her. I wrote in my number, hoping she'd call but not really expecting it. But she did. She ended up calling me on break one day, and we had a truly lovely conversation (I was definitely late getting back from my 15-minute break!). Apparently she was really ecstatic about the letter, because when she died five days later and I flew out to New York for the services I kept hearing about how happy it made her. And while I tend to boast a life of very little shame and regret, I keep finding myself in shock that she's gone, and that the time to reconnect further (though that phone call will be cherished) is gone with her.

So go call your grandmas. Like NOW.

Mized in with all this is a pretty un-fun eczema week, which makes even objectively good weeks feel pretty lousy. Lots of finger splits and stinging. It's probably this shampoo I've been using, but playing "Which Shampoo Won't Hurt You?" is only entertaining to a certain level. Definitely too tired to be playing that right now.

To try to end on a positive note, someone is going to lend me a banjo fo' free while I save up for my own! That's pretty neat.

Someone else appreciating the awesome of the P/T Lifestyle!

From Overqualified. Emphasis mine:

"To: Citibank
Re: The ground floor

Dear Citibank,

I am writing to apply for a job with your company, and I should say ahead of time that I am using you to tease my mother. I don't have any interest in whatever it is you people do. Every time I see her, she starts in on me again. Why don't you have a career yet? What are you doing with your life?

But Citibank, you know what the best day of my life was? The day I realized that I could work a shitty part time job to cover my rent and my food, and the rest of my time could be my own.

So, I apologize for using your current economic woes to tease my mother, and her idea of my banker cousin as a model I should aspire to. I know you guys are probably freaking out. You need to just relax. Think about what I said. I have a pretty nice life.

Joey Comeau"

THIS IS EXACTLY HOW I FEEL ABOUT LIFE (and why I work P-Tizzle)!

Now if I could just have a madly-successful website and super-selling books...

Happy Monday!