08/16/2005 - 7:19 p.m. | too many balls...

...in the air. Not in my mouth and no I don't have extra testicles. I'm just getting more and more bogged down by shit. I'm starting to hate the two jobs I have now because they're already killing so much of my time, and I can't imagine it getting any better. This Housing Authority thing is supposed to be part time, but when I hear that term "part time," I think a few hours a couple times a week. I'm there sometimes 5, 6 hours everyday, and I just keep getting shit on by more and more of the staff, shiny new printer be damned. EVERY DAY! Every morning I wake up (hungove, still drunk, whatever), and do I get to just sit around? Nope! Let's go rush to talk to the impoverished! And the cookie place - well, I love it and all, but having only two drivers on staff is the most fucking ridiclous idea I've ever heard. Neither of us can ever take a day off (like tonight, for Shelly's pre-b-day karaoke fest), and Jason has already given his two weeks notice, meaning I'll be there all alone in just a short while. James hasn't even tried to find actual replacements, and with gas prices so high, it's doubtful he'll find many, and so it'll just be more and more work for me. Plus! UNIFORMS! Fuck, as if the shit at the housing authority I'm supposed to wear wasn't bad enough, now all of a sudden perfect job wants me decked in a large polo shirt (BEIGE AGAIN!) and a purple hat. The day that happens is the day I fuck right off.

And then, I dunno - fucking girls or something, I guess. Julie is phoning me all the time now, and that thing with Hot Michelle was weird, and I happened to stumble downstairs last night at 5:30 am just in time to hear a drunken Kyle, Jevon, and Allison Helm discussing me. "If Nate wanted to, he could have me at any time..." Aw, Christ. At least I got to see Kyle as Highlander smacking the refrigerator with the Blade sword. And Missy has maybe gotten into the facebook thing now, because I got an e-mail from them today asking me to confirm that I am in a relationship with her so that it will be listed in both our profiles. Sounds like a plot to eliminate antics to me, and if there's one thing I need, it's the chance for antics. Not that I ever go through with anything, but I need to know I could possibly. My patience is wearing thin, guys, and I worry I'm going to snap and start doing ridiculous shit real soon, son.