07/12/2003 - 10:50 p.m. | and radio has salmonella

I woke up today less painfully exhausted than I have all week (yay for pathetic social life and falling asleep before 11), but still not Mr. Happy Sunshine. When am I ever Mr. Happy Sunshine? There is a bubble on the wall I need to go pop. Hold on.

There. Today I went and worked in a factory! Can you believe it? The time went by pretty quickly because I only worked 4.5 hours instead of 7.5. Also, I am the only one with the passion t stay past 11 and finish, so I had the whole building to myself to sing. Actually, I sang while everyone was there, too. I was in a fairly happy mood, I guess. I made a pallet and a little over $40. The only rain on my parade (because there must be some) is that the wagon is running sort of funny in higher gears lately. My mom mentioned it last night, and I assumed she just wasn't used to driving such a performance machine, but it gets shaky as hell around 70, so I was nervous. I have already fallen in love with that car. Don't kill another, Nate. Not another.

After work, I went to True Value / Radio Shack to get the flat keyboard I've been contemplating, this spending almost exactly what I made today. It pleases me, though, aesthetically and technically, so I have nothing to bitch about. "Beth," the key chick from last time, called me "hon;" I didn't mind as much as I normally do. Drove home, got some sun, ate a sandwich, read, and took a nap for a few hours. Dad did some investigating on the car and hopefully we can have it fixed on Monday. It is coming to the Stick-It tournament; I don't care if I have to push it there. I am attached.

Parents left at 3:30 or so for a wedding, and I began the arduous process of watching a "Kim Possible" marathon. I always mean to stop, but I keep getting wrenched in. The #1 episode is on ... holy shit - right now, I think. Whatever. Wrote a letter and then rode my bike into Sheridan to rent a couple movies. Back up death hill (gets easier still), followed by chores and laundry and movies. I watched Phone Booth and A Guy Thing, both apparently recommended by Kyle. I didn't have any qualms, I guess, but I was more in the mood to just be entertained, so this is not to say that I couldn't have any. Vanessa called in the middle of the former; even brief social contact is noteworthy these days. It's not so much that I'm bad at it; I'm just reluctant to make a go at any. By the way, romantic comedies always make me hopelessly optimistic, though, because everything works out so nicely. More chores and now I'm just sort of here. And no one else is really... Parents came home and there was some discussion of our neuroses. My one cousin thinks it's ridiculous I take meds and should do breathing exercises because ... well, I'm not sure exactly. We'll see.

Don't let me buy any more Avril Lavigne posters. Actually, there really aren't any new ones to buy except for 2 gross ones I refuse to get (I recognize all the title descriptions on eBay now). She doesn't look punk rock enough for me in them, and I am all about that shit.

It's good to have a break.