May. 3rd, 2005

wereleggo: (Default)
Got home today after looking at an apartment I can't really afford and had an email in my inbox from someone with a job opening in Cambridge. She found my resume on Monster and wants to talk to me, and it's not even a hospital job - seems to be research or something. I'M NOT GETTING MY HOPES UP I'M NOT GETTING MY HOPES UP I'M NO - ah fuck, yes I am. At least it's a good sign that they contacted me, yes.

Of course, I started composing an email, then decided to just call tomorrow, then forgot the email was open in another window, then accidentally sent it. It wouldn't have been so bad, except I seem to have decided to call instead mid-sentance. Then I sent another one saying "Whoops. I'm going to call tomorrow, sorry about that". Sheesh. I'm like the Jerry Lewis or something, I swear.

I need food! What right does my father have to go away for the night leaving his POOR DEFENSELESS TWENTY SIX YEAR OLD GAINFULLY EMPLOYED DAUGHTER ALLLLL ALONE WITH NO FOOD?

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