Sack of Shit Monday

In an effort to stave off complete worthlessness, I will document my ramblings.

CFA Level I Exam – worst! Double worst.

Returning to work on Monday after failing the test that would lead to a new job – Triple Worst.

All in all, though, things are not that bad. I have parking tickets to pay for, that I have no money for. I am behind on rent, but my landlord can’t seem to kick me out.

Big waves are coming to town, 15-20 footers. I will not be attending, as it would lead to an early death for yours truly.

On Friday, I ate pizza for lunch, and then pizza for dinner. Chinese food Saturday night….equals the Bowels of Doom.

DankNuggets, aka the Prettiest Substitute Teacher in NOVA, is back in town, and planning the move to ODU, ala Suityourself (nepotism and homosexuality aside), which should lead to fruitful blogifications. At least it will for me, I can only imagine the shit that’s going to go down. No doubt, the two or three years since college have shaped all of us differently, and the new dynamic should lead to some funny shit. I do not predict an eviction for Dank, but also do not predict co-habitation that lasts longer than…….6 months. June?

At work, I have to constantly update this scrolling data thing. It’s for stocks. It’s timestamped, so if I don’t do it for an hour, it’s very obvious. But the thing is, it’s real easy to blame “technology,” and I often use this crutch as an excuse for blatant errors and fuckups. “Technology” – no one gets it, so just use it as your excuse. Just make sure you don’t piss off the IT guy by making him look bad. That happened to me this morning, but THEN, you just have to finagle what you say to the IT guy, so it makes it look like you weren’t trying to bust him, but trying to appease another boss by explaining an “unfixable/unforeseeable” error that sprang up. It’s a useless, endless cycle of shit, and you just have to grease the shit-wheels with shit, to keep the whole process moving smoothly.

No painting this weekend. I almost did, but I played guitar instead. I asked myself, “Which would bring me more enjoyment – painting or guitar?” I quickly settled on guitar, and spent Friday afternoon playing git on the porch. It’s been a while since the solo-porch-gitar action, and it was great. It’s been a while, like I said, but I can still riznizzle.

My neighbor, who is an ex-Marine, was also surprisingly good, with his own songs, and a voice. Turns out he has a sick Epiphone casino, red, just like Dank’s but only a different color.

When I lived in Virginia, Roughty used to play trumpet once he got drunk, he did not care what time it was. I would get pissed at him, because it was so fucking loud. He was a decent player, but he would always play too late at night, too loud, and too drunk. Jackass.

I’m done, maybe get to work or something. Keep seeing headlines of all these people doing shit, and it makes me ask what the shit am I doing.

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