The Dark-Eyed Mistress of Sweet, Sweet Pain (jenni_the_odd) wrote,
The Dark-Eyed Mistress of Sweet, Sweet Pain

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My dinner is a bagel with strawberry cream cheese. This is a Sunday Morning food, but I do not mind.
Strawberry cream cheese always reminds me of when I worked at Texas Art Supply. I always worked Sundays, which was apparently a difficult day to staff - everyone wanted to party on Saturday and sleep 'til three on Sunday. I never minded because I'd always had to get up at least as early for church, and this way I didn't actually have to attend worship services (which were invariably too long and mindshatteringly dull). One Sunday morning I started buying bagels for everyone. because we only had six or so people on any given Sunday, the dozen (huge, tasty, and freshly-made) bagels and two cream cheese tubs for $9.99 exactly at Einstein Bros. was an attractive deal. I lived with my parents, had only the gas for my car and frivolous purchases as expenses, and did not really have anything huge to save for - $10 a week out of my $120 paycheck was a small sacrifice. I rarely ate the bagels myself, as I dislike eating in the morning, though after a while I had a mix that included the favorites of all the regular Sunday people. Bianca eventually got me to try her favorite combination - strawberry cream cheese on a chocolate-chip bagel. It was extremely tasty. I'd never had strawberry cream cheese before.
I wasn't the most fun or interesting person who worked there. I didn't party on weekends. I wasn't the most talented, artistically or in any other way. I wasn't the smartest. I was too young and still too influenced by my Christian upbringing to share any stories of drinking, smoking, and general debauchery, and too naive to understand a lot of the ones they told. But they loved me because I fed them.
Works every time. :D

I got to go to the Container Store today. The Container Store. That's right. An entire store dedicated to arranging everything you could possibly own into nice, neat little racks, jars, shelves, and boxes. It makes me all warm and squishy just thinking about it. I like arranging things. One of the reasons my livingspace is so constantly messy is because when I go through one of my "must organize!" phases, I tend to arrange things just so, decide that it simply Will Not Do, and rearrange them until I either lose interest or am called away. This invariably leaves everything I own in horrible disarray. The urge to organize and reorganize is very strong (I regularly begin to make lists and start a full and very thorough inventory of everything I own and how often it is used, its value when new and approximate current value, etc. Unfortunately, I have the attention span of a moth).

Much of the time I simply content myself with making lists and planning things. Even if I do not complete all or any of the items on the list, the act of writing it down soothes me. I have dozens and dozens of notebook pages from last semester filled out with lists in minute detail describing my steps in accomplishing what I am going to do that day, that week, that month. I would rewrite them, even the already-written weekly goals, every Tuesday and Thursday while waiting for my Spanish class to start (I had a big gap of time between classes then). It's kind of creepy to look at these lists now. I could never use the same list twice, so even on days when I had gotten nothing done before, I had to rewrite everything.

I am constantly torn between my fondness for my Assorted Crap and the knowledge that I could (and a feeling that I should) strip away everything that is not necessary for survival. Sell it, give it away, just get rid of it and simplify until I cannot remove anything more without my quality of life dropping below a level I am willing to tolerate. This would most likely leave me with two or three full sets of clothing, a computer, a blanket, a water bottle, some measuring cups and spoons, and a pot for cooking. Furniture is for sissies. :D

HAHA! happymrlocust has joined the ranks of the undead insane wankers webcomic artists. Soon his brain will be entirely made of mush (at present, probes indicate a brain to mush ratio of 14:3).

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