If I wasn't so damn busy....
#8: ...so I've realized that the mortgage industry is basically a twisted sociology experiment. Take the most difficult short term event you can think of that does not involve physical harm to your body (moving), combine it with the largest financial event of your life (buying a house). Tack on the most convoluted, confusing, and draconian business you can still muster in the 21st century (mortgages). Then throw in a couple of Real Estate agents (the human equivalent of a ferret on coke crossed with some sort of deadly snake). And roll it all into a 3 week span wherein you are actively soliciting companies to enslave you into crippling financial debt. I get that this is going to be traumatic for you, but just imagine how I feel...
#7: ...is it possibly to completely love and be completely against a movie at the exact same time? Because don't get me wrong, I loved almost every single minute of The Devil Wears Prada without exception. Streep continues to prove that she can act circles around everyone else in the world with one hand tied behind her back. Emily Blunt is steals every scene she's in without fail, and Anne Hathaway is not necessarily bad at what she does. But what were they going for here? Meryl Streep = evil? or Good? Or intensely misanthropic while still being very good at her job. Because I got #3 out of the movie, which I'm not thinking is what they were going for...
#6: ...and it wasn't just a sneeze, it was like the most violent sneeze ever visited upon a human being. I mean it sent my entire upper body into a forward seizure like I was going to to a double flip off a diving board. In response to this, my hands swing up to shield my mouth, as spewing spittle across any office is considered bad form. And I swear to God, I managed to jab my finger in my eye so hard that I thought I was blind for over a minute. I imagined my life from here on out wearing an eye patch like a mortgage-pirate. It was not an enjoyable fantasy, believe me...
#5: ...because what else do you do after you've already been in the office for 10 hours and your weekend still will not begin until you water the plants? Obviously the answer is to take the two Starbucks cups that you use to get the plant water, affix them to both of your ears like you are listening for the ocean, and then wander down the hall to the water fountain. It's not like there is anyone there to notice you at 5:45 on a Friday. Except for perhaps the cleaning crew. And the late appointment family in Conference Room B, and that guy from...
#4: ...you would like to think that the process of stapling is not that difficult to master. Well, if you are anyone else other than me, you would be correct. However if you are Jason, you will find a way to screw it up, even if you've been doing it professionally for two years now. Here's a hint: If you are using your index and middle finger to press the stapler down and encounter resistance, do not decide to slam your first down on the stapler to help it along. Because it will basically break your fingers in half if you are off by even the slightest bit...
#3: ...no joking, no hyperbole, all serious, the worst book I have ever read in my entire life. Not even humorously bad, or train wreck bad, or let-me-read-the-prose-to-you-out-loud, Anne-Heche-autobiography-style bad, just horrible bad. Like, when I am on my death bed, I will curse the author for the precious 5 hours of my life that I devote to the dreck that he had the audacity to call a book. No characterization, poor plotting, poor sentence structure, completely half-assed attempts at scares, and an ending that rivals "And it was all just a dream" for the worst possible way to close a novel. Someday I will find that "author" and when I do...
#2: ...are you allowed to name cacti? In any case, I love him greatly and despite Frank's insinuations that I am killing him, he is still totally alive, with his shiny orange top and multiple layers and vicious-looking spikes. This may not seem like the largest accomplishment, keeping a cactus alive for just over 9 days, but believe me, it is up there in the Jason Book of Impressive Deeds. I have now moved him off the patio, though, because while the instructions do say that he likes sunlight, I'm pretty sure the amount of heat outside right now is enough to make him spontaneously combust, and even cacti probably have issues with fire...
#1: ...any yet here it is July 8th, and I still plan on going into work next week. The vow has been broken, I've officially crossed the two year deadline at this place with no apparent plans of quitting. My office has apparently become absorbed into my being and I am now actually my job. Just thinking about it makes my skin crawl: literally two full years in the same place, doing the same thing. 730 days. I can actually quote you interest rates off the top of my head. I have opinions about the best type of financing options on houses. I have used the phrase TGIF unironically (although, only once, I swear). I have a Tuesday outfit. Wow, this entry got real depressing real fast...
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Some day I might actually get around to finishing an entire entry, but I wouldn't hold my breath.
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