Fucking shitball mothercock.

My work schedule right now oscillates between opening, where I wake up at 4 or 5 am to be at work at 5 or 6 am, and closing, where I go in to work around 1pm and am there until 9:30 or 10 pm. It could be worse, but it royally fucks with my brains sometimes. For instance, after returning from a 5-day vacation, I had two closing shifts in a row. I then had a midday shift, and today I went in at 6am. Tomorrow will be another 6am shift, Sunday will have me there at 5am, and then Monday I'll be going back in at 6am.

For those of you keeping score, that's five seven days in a row. My brain first thought it was five for some stupid reason. It is not capable of keeping score.

I don't intend to bitch about how much I'm working. That's not the point I'm trying to make. I'm very glad to have a job. But sometimes I wish there was a way to express, via this text, how long it took me to finish the previous sentence. It sort of went like this:

"That's not the point I'm trying to make. I'm very..." *blink blink* *type type type* *blink blink* *staaaaaare* *delete delete delete* "... glad to have a job."

Where was I?

I'm glad to have a job. Things suck right now, but they'd suck worse if I wasn't working. And this is not the worst job I've ever had. It's actually in the top five. My boss isn't an asshole, my coworkers are a fucking laugh riot (ye gods, I can't even spell riot correctly the first two or three times). I have awesome coworkers.

I keep losing my train of thought. Ok, going to start over. Again.

I'm glad to have a job. What I'm whinging about is the fact that my sleep schedule gets so fucking cocked-up sometimes, I lose many of the faculties that make me feel superior to the people I see on websites like... oh, I don't know... Lamebook. I can spell words with, like, seven syllables, whereas those people can't even spell words with three letters. Though I realize it's probably more due to laziness and the oppressing mentality that communicating in (*blink blink blink* *staaaaaare*) anything resembling an educated manner is for morons who can't grasp the idea that i can rite lyk dis n u stil no wat i meen, bra.

Someone help me. I'm losing control of my brains, and it's because I couldn't fall asleep last night. It's appalling that even though I've only technically been awake for (*staare* "ok, the first alarm went off at 4:30 am, and it's 6pm now, so..." *blinkblinkstare*) almost 14 hours, I feel as though it's closer to three times that amount length. I mean, I did sleep last night. Just not for long. I was definitely still awake at 2am. It's just kind of dumb that I can easily stay awake for more than 14 hours with no brain-deadening effects when there are more than 2.5 hours of sleep in between awake periods.

Ok. I'm done. I'm going to post this and let all 11 of you know just what a pitiful, broken creature I become sometimes for no real reason at all. But first, a picture. Because why the fuck not?

I was going to post a pic that was strange and out of nowhere, but that one is appropriately topical. So now I'll look for another strange and out of nowhere picture.

I really hoped more people would buy that t-shirt. Because then I would have more moneys, and people would be wearing Taintpuncher shirts.

*facepalm*

So, a hypothetical question that I posed last November has become less hypothetical.

So, hypothetically, who keeps giving these not-funny, talentless hacks money to make movies?

That really wasn't a hypothetical question, was it?

HYPOTHETICS!

What a weirdo

Five years ago today, I was chatting with some friends after rehearsal, and one guy asked if I planned on going to karaoke the next evening.

"What the hell?" I thought to myself. "He hates karaoke. Why does he even care?" And then I saw the way he was sort of smiling, and it made weird sense. He was flirting with me. And wanted to continue flirting with me.

I almost didn't go, because I'd just picked up Jade Empire, and you know how that is. But I eventually did, because I can't say no to karaoke. And he was there, and we flirted.

And the rest, as they say, is just between us.

Where I Belong

I consider myself lucky that one of my earliest jobs was in a field that I absolutely love, that it was a great environment to work in, and that I had awesome bosses. It set the bar pretty high, and the last few jobs I've had have been pretty lackluster, even without the comparison. My dissatisfaction with my current job has me reminiscing about this early work experience, and I really find that I miss it.

Back in the day, I worked as an usher for a large performing arts center. It had only been open a year, and was a renovation of the city's first high school. I worked there for two years or so, commuting back on the weekends when I got into college. I got to the point where I wasn't just an usher, I was also able to house-manage the smaller of the two stages. I helped out on mornings when tickets for highly-anticipated events went on sale. I helped patrons find their seats, and get new seats when they had tickets on the fourth floor (the balcony, which was above the mezzanine - - it was really damn high up) and acrophobia kicked in. I just loved it. Not only was it a performing arts area, but it was also a customer service area.

My bosses were awesome. I'll never forget the one who gave me a great brief on the professors at the college I would soon attend, and later gave me advice I should have listened to. He was fond of calling me "AB" and high-fiving me. I think it amused him that I was so damn short, but it was still fun. He left, and his assistant took over, and she often seemed to have such a great energy, and attitude. These were people that I wanted to work for, and made me want to do well. Those are good feelings for a kid just entering the work force to have, I think.

Out of lingering nostalgia and a few other reasons, I decided to become a fan of the center on Facebook, and yesterday a video was posted of a horde of children streaming into the building to attend a show. I am not a person who is fond of children, but watching the clip made me want to be there so badly.

There's something wonderful about a performing arts center. It's not like retail, or (I imagine) other types of customer service. So often, it seems, shopping is like a chore for people. It's not something they get excited about very frequently (though there are moments, and when they happen, it's kind of awesome in its own way). But with performing arts, the energy can be incredible. For a lot of people, it's a special occasion, and they're happy to be there, and looking forward to the next few hours. I'd give my left arm to be back in that kind of environment.

Somebody's left arm, anyway. No need to go wasting a perfectly good one.