i got on at claaaireees.

no more smelling of pizza and shame everynight.

dfjka;jdfkl;ajfkl;dfjkl;ajkdfj.

jdsfkl;jf.

yeah. i love the way mike sounds on the phone. it's just adorable. i'm always happy to talk to him.

i must admit though, even though i hate my job so much, i will kind of miss it. and by 'missing my job' i mean 'missing karen, lawanna and jeff'. well, maybe not jeff. he falls asleep drunk on my couch sometimes, so i may not have time to miss him. but karen and lawanna i pretty much only see at work, so i will have to make a conscience effort to see them.

but that's okay i guess. i mean, come on, i've been making pizza for two years. . .that's two years longer than anyone should be required to have to make food for asshole-y soldiers. i swear. that's one thing i really hate. some of them are really nice, but most of them have a very 'better than thou' attitude. i want to grab them and shake them a little bit, tell them 'my daddy has been a soldier his whole life and he's not an asshole. what the hell is your problem!?' sheesh.

but yeah. mike totally called me right as i was going through the door at work, so i just chilled outside for a bit. he wants me to help them with inventory on sunday, mainly just to meet everyone, including the district manager. he wants me to be trained asap so that he can hand me some shiney keys. . .yum.

still. very excited. gonna go do some paper work tomorrow, find out what all is to be expected of me. . .

my head is itchy. remember when bleaching your hair, keep an eye on it.

someone scratch me plzkthnx.