I just finished watching the Daily Show. I want to marry Jon Stewart. He's nerdy hot, super smart, and funny as fuck. Scotty was here earlier. We bitched about our days, drank a glass of wine, and watched Who Wants to be a Superhero. Because it requires no thought and there's nothing else on Thursdays, that's why.
Tomorrow at 8:32am I'll be thirty-wonderful. I'm pretty okay with it, I think. Maybe I just have too much stress and chaos going on to worry about another year gone by. I don't have word on the job. I emailed her tonight. Wouldn't a job offer be a great birthday present? Students are back. Work sucks. I want to spend tomorrow having cocktails instead of changing password, changing schedules, and trying to control the fist of death. I love Dilbert.
I'm stream of consciousness-y tonight, not profound. I should have some words of wisdom on the edge of another birthday. About aging. About changing. Growing. Living. Dying. Love. Eh. I'm on break for a minute. So let's just go to karaoke on Saturday at 9pm. Library Bar. They know we're coming. We are taking over again. Tres Guerilla Bar, Laramie Style.
Big Gay Jim. Another year older. Going to bed. At 10pm. Because it's a school night. Damn I'm old. ;) And I want a job. For my birthday. It's a wish!
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