Impending doom and other hyperbole

I am feeling awful about work.

I was told to stop giving the new people a hard time, namely the new girls. Just because I have an ingrained sense of duty that makes me more masochistic than I'd like to believe, doesn't mean that I am not a faithful worker.

Mom's going to lose her job. Thank you Bush's America.

I am listening to Kid Dynamite's CBGB reunion. Where would I be without music? I am too frightened to answer that.

First week of class and I already feel the weight of 18 hours grinding me into the dirt.

Story is coming along quite nicely, however.

I am in such a funk. Need something, some person, some idea new.

Since August 1st, huh? Let's recap.

I went home a couple weekends ago. It's still the same. Everyone is the same except my grandparents. They are unfortunately older. I went to my last Cards game at THE Busch Stadium. Nose bleed seats. Just how I like it.

I continue to have the feeling that I am being increasingly difficult to be around. I lash out at people. I do end up regretting it. Not only that but I am so mopey around my freinds. This is true until a particular element is added: Alcohol, specifically beer.

A couple nights ago I went to a party for the first time in a long time. I got to see a bunch of old friends and I felt comfortable thanks, in part, to my lowered social inhibitions throught the use of beer. I have two theories on this:

A. I am becoming a dependent alcoholic. I don't think this is too likely because I really don't drink that much. I work to often to have time to drink.

B. My own personal social inhibitions are ridiculously high. In other words, I think I may have a case of social anxiety. (I don't believe it is a disorder so it isn't a case of SAD).

School, school, school. I got all A's during the summer. That was grand. The 18 hours next semester is quite intimidating. We'll see how that works out.

Vice-President Cheney is in town today and there is a disappointing (and disturbing) lack of protestors.

My tape deck in my car is starting to die on me. This hurts me more than when I had my front end smashed up. I am praying that it won't die for the next, oh, 5 years. Not likely. If I decide to put a CD player in it, it will be interesting to see the stereo guys try to find a place of it in the dash of a Buick Skylark.

I like have old people possesions. My old person car, the car seat beads, my salvation army furniture, my old person shoes (they're so comfortable). Maybe it is ironic or maybe I just like comfort over fashion. Maybe a little from column A and a little from column B.

Yeah for hockey!

Wake up

Well, I finally posted again. I always think of stuff to write at the most inconvienient times.

Here's my rant of the day. I like punk music.
My favorite bands are Kid Dynamite, The Briggs, (old)Link 80. See any connection? Those raspy, straining, gritty vocals just get me pumped up.

Kid Dynamite is reuniting at CBGB's in New York. I am jealous.

Spanish is getting better.

This is good news.