8 Hour Work Days are Long

When you're not used to having to stay all eight hours, the "regular" work day seems long.

What a pathetic whiny statement, no?

But it's true for me. I work best when I feel a need to. When I don't, like now (unlike this morning when I happily puttered away at this and that), minutes are agonizingly loooooooooong, and I end up shopping for underware during the twice-yearly buy 3 get 3 free Lane Bryant Sale (www.lanebryant.com).

I know I should stop buying underwear on the "fat girl" website in an optimistic stance of "I'm going to get thinner." But I really like the underwear I purchased a month ago, and my other underwear (how many times can I use the word "underwear" in one post?) just doesn't compare. It's forcing me to do "unnecssary" laundry.

Anyway, the point is not underwear, the point is I hate having to conform to someone else's schedule. I need a find a way to work for myself so I can work when I want and take glorious two-week minimum vacations to faraway places.

I shall market myself as a A-1 "door decorator" and "miscellanious task finisher." That should get me somewhere, right?

I'm so ridiculously hopeless.

Ooh! It's 5:00pm!

And-oh-how could I forget to talk about Brokeback Mountain. It really is as good (better) than everything you've been hearing. I sat at Jon's dinner table last night, eating birthday cake (hooray) but all the time thinking about the movie. I couldn't stop. It was completely engrossing. Absolutely amazing. I could go on forever. But I'd rather leave. Maybe I'll gush some more tomorrow.

All I can say is that it's by far the best love story I've experienced in ages, and Heath Ledger is the sexiest gay cowboy ever (what kind of statement is that? I don't know, but I would run off with him to a shack in Wyoming in a heartbeat, gay cowboy or not).