State of the...Union? Nation? Jason?

I don't know if it's just something going around, but man, I am in the worst mood. Sometimes when I'm stressed I get this tiny little tic under my left eye. Usually just during finals, or before a big job interview. For the past three days? Nonstop from-the-eye-to-the-bridge-of-my-nose muscle spasming. Sometimes it gets so bad, my eyelid flutters and it's like my very own strobe light in the office. When your rage physically manifests itself on your face, issues are getting out of hand.

First off, seriously, to the people who run the apartment complex, when you say your hours are from 9am to 6pm, why is it that I have yet to find your office open? I have come at 12:00, 1:00, 2:30, 5:00, and 5:45, with varying degrees of regularity for the past, what, 6 consecutive days? And called at 10:00, 11:00, 1:00, and 5:00 for the past two. There is nothing in this world that can keep you out of the office that much. Are you secret agents? Do you run a back room cock fighting ring during the day? Do you understand that my water heater could at any moment come crashing down off its waterlogged and already partially collapsed perch? This is sort of time sensitive. We're not going to even get into the whole broken garbage disposal, leaking air conditioner, non-functioning sink thing. I'll just settle with making sure the big thing in the kitchen doesn't destroy the entire house, flooding-of-the-Titanic style.

Okay, and the ants. For the love of God. Okay, I understand that nature is out there. And that sometimes there may be an ant or two in the house, if you leave some food out, or if they hate your immortal soul, or whatever, but come on. In the course of the past two days I have killed about 2 dozen ants just randomly about the apartment. These are not ants in a line heading towards food, these are not ants living in the wall, just random ants who think it's cool to hang around by my computer, or over by the dining room table. Just, y'know, checking shit out. Vacuuming and bleaching everything does nothing, these random ants keep coming. Have I mentioned lately that I hate ants?

And arg, just shut up, Mechanic Who is Allegedly Fixing My Sister's Car. Okay, first we go through the suckfest of epic proportions that was trying to put the downpayment actually down without my resorting to physical violence. Then we go through 4 days with no contact whatsoever, despite my calling non-stop for the last 2. And then when I do get through, you inform me that "oh, they sold that part we needed, so nothing has actually been done, and oh yeah, we just weren't going to call you. And also, we have no idea when we might be getting another part." Jesus. Fuck that noise, just fix the car, or tell me you can't fix it, don't just sit on it like it's your new favorite lawn ornament. Also? Shut up.

Oh, and Hi, The Entire Mavericks Basketball team. What are you trying to do to me? Did we all suddenly become bi-polar and forgot to inform me? Did you seriously blow out Houston by 40 points on Saturday and then proceed lose by 20 on Monday? I know they are different teams, and Steve Nash is extra wily, but come on, throw me a bone. He's tiny, smush him or something. I love you, but get it together. I don't need this stress. And right after the goddamn freakiest hour of television I've seen in a while (Medium, which, seriously, shudder to the nth degree. Creepy can't even beging to describe, even if it was so overacted that I constantly feared for the sets, what with all the scenery chewing. British accents are evil. Sometimes sexy, usually evil.) None of this is good for my rage.

Just to level everything else off, let us address The Cement Truck on Highway 12 This Morning Who Lost Control of His Swirling Cement Mixer And Dumped a Load of Wet Cement on My Onramp, Causing Me to be Well Over 45 Minutes Late For Work, Not To Mention the Cement on my Tires.

Actually, you know what? Let's not address him, my eye is already twitching too much as is.

To Cingular: I'm sorry you feel like my cell phone plan is too nice for me. Yeah, I locked it in back in the day, when you were giving away the world for people to sign up. Too bad for you that this plan rules, I get to keep it no matter how hard you try to talk me out of it. I have the lifetime contract in my glove compartment, you can read it if you want. So just take the damn phone upgrade and get it working on my number. No, I don't want to look at those peak minute plans, and no I don't care about the new wireless headsets. What I care about is getting a phone that costs less than a new car in a size that is less than my current footlong model and gets reception in other places than on top of a 4 story building next to a phone tower. Like in my apartment, perhaps. Stop talking and do your job. Rollover this, tool.

Forever and ever, amen.

I really need some chocolate and a nap.