To everyone who wished me a happy birthday, thank you so much. I’m retardedly lucky to have you all as friends, and will reply to every wish with something witty (I hope). :)

So, the day after I bitch about hating my job, guess what? I can’t sleep. At night. At all. says I was actually sleeping, but I would start awake every time she moved or made the slightest noise. I didn’t get anything solid till around 6, I think, but even then, it was sketchy. So, this means that I call in sick to work, because I can’t operate. This also means that I’m in sleepy groggy hell for much of the day. The only way to stay awake was enough coffee to make me feel light-headed and tingly in my extremeties. I think it was like 11 or 12 cups.

An email from Amy, a good friend of mine who decided to print out everything that I’ve written so far:

“You should see this thing printed out. It doesn’t even begin to fit the large binder clips. It is huge and beautiful and feels so real now that I see it on paper. You should be so proud. I have to put it in a box!!!!!!”

I am proud, Amy. I am. :) This shout out also goes to , who asked me what I would do if I could do anything for a living, and “write” pushed its way out of my mouth without my knowledge or permission. Heh.

I had a phone interview with a City Pulse staff writer, which means that I and my letter to the editor are going to be extensively quoted in their upcoming article about McPherson. Finally, I can say this about that assbag and his administration: “I WIN!” Heh.

Okay, my internal systems are shutting down one by one. It’s time for me to call and wish her a good night. Same goes to all of you peoples. :)