oh how i loathe routine.

I can't have routine in my life, I just can't. And ever since my job, Monday through Friday has been the same. I can't stand it. This is why I'm sick. I'm allergic to this crummy routine and job. I don't hate the job--it just sucks, that's all. I can't wait till it's over. The sad thing is, I'm just doing it for the money. What a sellout I am.

Just when I thought my co-worker, D., was cool, he gets weird. He makes these weird, unsettling jokes around me. Like, I'm counting money in the cash box, and he walks by and says, "Hey, Elaine, let's take the money and elope to Vegas." Ugh. And other sordid jokes that I would not like to write about. Maybe it's me, and I'm a ultra conservative, but I really don't care for these jokes. God, why can't I make friends with a normal guy? A good, normal guy. It's just impossible for me. I'm going to die an old maid. It's inevitable.

My boss keeps encouraging me to look into the insurance buisness. I don't really respond, I just go, "Hmm." Like I'm thinking about it. Ugh. He'll be gone for a month. Out of the country. At a "convention".

I need some happiness.