The alarm clock goes off at 9. And we instantly enter a staring contest. I guess I won, because I wake up at 11. I take a shower, and rush out the door. As I'm heading into work I'm angry, thoughts of my ex rush into my head and the sleep still hasn't worn off my mind. I kick myself hard, theres no reason to be enraged today. Yet. As I step out of my car to enter work my boss meets me at the door. He spouts off thirty things I'm supposed to do. I mostly ignore him. E-mails are piled up and I delete them with finese.

The boss' wife wants me to fix her computer, so I head into her work. The printer cable isn't plugged in the right way. Why people just shoove them in any way they can I have no idea. So I unhook it and plug it in the right way. It works now. For a second there I'm wondering wiether to tell her it was plugged in wrong or to make something up so she doesn't sound like an ignoramus. I always did like making people sound stupid.

The boss' wife tries to initiate conversation. I'm not in the mood. So I give her short sparse answers that don't cure her desire. She probably thinks I'm shy now. If only she knew.

I head back into work, and my time there is almost up. I finish up a few last things and head out. I head over to Subway and notice that theres only six bucks in my pocket. Today is payday. I haven't been paid. I head back to work.

My boss pays me in cash, and normally he pays me straight down the the cent. Today he rounds down by four dollors. This better not be an every week thing.

So I head into the second job. Jump on the computers there because the place is dead. I read slashdot. Dimitri's plight is bothering me, but there really isn't anything I can do about it. I remind myself to delete Adobe and install ghostscript. My little protest, I feel like such a rebel.

Theres a girl there that asks for help. She's your basic country girl, 300 lbs with buck teeth, strong Texas accent. She could probably break me in two. For some reason I'm not intimidated but rather disgusted. I enjoy a woman who acts like.. well.. a woman.

Me and my boss get into a long discussion about the academic core, cell phones, and next semester. I inform him that I may not be working next semester. I think I broke his heart. His blue eyes seemed to loose their shine when I spoke this.

I head out into work over Brandon's house. His psuedo family is having a pool party, and me being the lovable hippy I am of course invited. I get to see everyone in a bikini. The day is looking up.

Lindsey is there, part of the family. Lindsey seems like that girl who doesn't quite fit in your crowd, because she usually associates herself with cooler people. Yet she's around this ecletic group of mismatches. She's cute, to say the least.

The water has this magnificant quality of being pure bleach, which is great on the sinuses. I'm out of shape and the pool wears me out. I must get off the computer at some point and enjoy the great outdoors a little more. The pool party ends around 9 and me and Brandon decide to head over to Fats.

We play a few rounds of pool. I get my ass whooped. I did manage to win one, although only because he scratched. For someone who is considered by many to be a mathematical genius I should probably shoot better pool. Well it's not all about angles and simple geometry.

We run into Jeremy, who seems a bit of an elitist although friendly enough to say hi. Jeremy has this strange addiction for fooseball. We cater to his obsession by playing a few games. There's this girl there, tall and slender, blonde and boisterous. She's incredibly attractive by anyone's standards. Her eyes are dialated which make her irises look like fine blue rings begging for something more then just idle chit chat. I don't indulge her desire, not out of lack of confidence just out of shear lack of will. The pool party really wore me out. On top of this I'm not feeling myself. A little more goofy then normal. I'm not the impressive lady killer tonight (nor most nights for that matter).

We head out of the bar scene and go for the after bar snack. Cheese fries prepared by the waitress and orange juice. I'm not a coffee drinker, Brandon is. We sit and chit chat, about what I couldn't tell you now. Nothing tonight seemed very important, more of a simple stress relief. Brandon drives home, I've had a few. Not enough to remain tipsy but enough to relax me for a little while. I'll still be up a few more hours tonight. Brandon rambles on about theatre on the way home, I'm listening I really am but I've lost the mood at some point. He says I'm just typing that because he's standing behind me, he's not exactly right on that one. I heard his conversations about Bob and some play which I've forgotten the name. Ok, so maybe I wasn't listening. I got the gist. He's passionate when he talks about theatre, and I'm wondering why he doesn't just persue it. It's not like he's doing anything right now anyway. What is there to lose.

Brandon says I'm a true artisan, because I've delved into a little bit of everything in life. A 'jack of all trades, master of none.' I think I'm just incredibly bored.