Bobbing along on the Bottom of the Beautiful, Briny Sea...

There's nothing to do at work today. Seriously. I finished everything I needed to do by 10:30. Vanessa and I took a two hour lunch break, where I accompanied her on a shopping expedition, buying myself a sweater and a black tank in the process (much like socks, I can never seem to hang on to all my black tanks--I imagine there all bunched up in the back room of some frathouse in Austin).

I put in my resume to the NYSE, and I interview for the permanent position next week. Let's keep our fingers crossed, shall we? Mama wants paid vacation. I have to take a drug test, which is worrisome, but I've been given recommendations on the way I go about solving that one.

All that sweet stuff Mom wrote me the other day, and then she sends me this link. Way to be positive, Mom.

I wish I had more to report since I have all the time in the world to write this. I guess I could comment on the current state of political affairs or something, but that isn't as self-involved as this blog is.

I did smoke last night with Daniel, Conor, and Devon out of the creepiest hookah I've ever seen. It was an evil clown/joker face. I was afraid it would give me nightmares, which it did. I woke up at 4:40 in a cold sweat, and couldn't settle back down, so at about 5 I went out onto the balcony to chainsmoke until I felt a bit more sane. Devon grumbled something, either in his sleep, or about the noise I made trying to get outside.

And that's my life. Carrie and her Lost Boys, smoking, working (or the appearance of it), creepy clowns, beer and Slim Fast, and awkwardness.

And, of course, porn and chocolate.