WELL, I didn't work today. But apparently, one of the rooms I did yesterday was COMPLAINED ABOUT! How do I know this? One of my coworkers told me. I was like, "PLEASE! I cleaned that stupid room!" Apparently, the ashtrays weren't WASHED. And I was like, PFFT! I NEVER KNEW SMOKERS HAD STANDARDS! I MEAN, WITH THEIR OBVIOUS ACTIONS OF SLOWLY KILLING THEMSELVES! So if my boss says something to me about that tomorrow, I am going to say that. Because right now? I don't care. I really just want YESTERDAY to be my last day, but my parents are all, no... And I'm all, YES. And my dad got into my work ethic, and I was like ... I don't care. Which is not something my parents want to hear when I'm about to embark on the rest of my life.
So I have to stick with it one more day.
Sigh.
(sigh indeed.)
Anyway, I got into my books again (in my actions of packing up my room) and ... I'm just not picking all my books this time. I mean, while I do like His Dark Materials, I don't think I'm going to have some SUDDEN URGE to read them. And if I do, I'll just ask my mom to mail them to me. Or just go to the public library in the city. It's not that hard. (Although I can't bring myself to leave the works of Sarah Dessen, Maureen Johnson and, even if it kills me, Meg Cabot with me.)
Much easier. It's still a lot of books, but not too much this time. It's good!
- Possum
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