This weekend was busy. Lots of lugging garbage bags full of clothes downstairs, cleaning out a local clothes closet. Started the process of becoming a United Methodist. Lots of social action activities. Saw Tracy Chapman live for free from the third row. Promoted Dennis Kucinich. Talked with Howard Lyman. See if they're coming to your area: WeThePlanet. And now here I am. Back at overwork. That's what I'm calling my job from now on: overwork. Because what I'm doing isn't just work. It's driving me slowely insane with stress and this time of year, it's only downhill.

Today was sweaty. Grocery shopping in bulk is hard work. And I wasn't even the one doing the shopping! My food pantry bought two van loads of food at the grocery store. It cost $1,600. My feet hurt. My boots + cordless clip-on phone put three more pounds on me. I know because I have a scale. I also know that Nutella is tasty. Even better with pretzels! Pray to the blogger Gods that this post survives the posting.

Fucking Blogger! I just wrote a nice big two-paragraph post telling you about last week and my wonderful birthday yesterday, but now you don't get to hear about it because Blogger timed-out and I'm not writing it all again. Today is pouty!

Today is maddening. I called up the prospective job. Filled. I should receive a letter soon. Wacky proposition did not fly with the one boss, but maybe if I commit to staying longer than "whenever I get another offer," it might work. Today was crazy people day. Or maybe it was just every-mundane-thing-drives-Melissa-crazy day. Hard to tell.

Today is restless. I proposed My Plan to June, the Head Clerk. It entails dropping down to half-time in my current position so that my current boss, can start looking for someone else to do my job. Meanwhile, I pick up a half-time Clerk position and stick around to help my replacement do their job. June thought it was a decent idea, though, honest as I am, she's uncomfortable training me if I might leave for a completely different job shortly after. But, she's going to ask her boss and it just might fly. They love me over there! Besides, still no call for an interview and it's the end of the week.

Today is a blah day. The sky threatens rain, but no dice yet. Still no interview phone call. I am headachey and tired. And I have nothing else to write about. I got my cell service cancelled last night so that was good! No more dealing with frustrating Verizon. I'm planning on being a Working Assets Wireless girl. I know they're tools, but so am I!



They're not as bad as these MCI motherfuckers though. I've gotten a call from them every night this week trying to get me to switch to their new local service. I hate them. Their telemarketers are trained to have the same annoying spiel. This is how the worst one went:

Me: Hello?

MCI: Hello, may I speak with Melissa?

Me: This is her.

MCI: How are you this evening?

Me: Just fine.

MCI: I'm calling from MCI Neighbors a new local phone service provider in your area. You have Qwest right now, right? So, you're paying, what, like $40 a month for basic service?

Me: No, I pay $11.00

MCI: But, you don't get caller ID, call waiting, or voice mail or any services like that, right?

Me: No, I don't. I don't want any of those services.

MCI: Don't you want to know who's calling you before you decide to answer the phone?

Me: Why? So I can not pick up for people like you?

MCI: Haha. Exactly!

Me: Well, how about you just not call me anymore and we won't have that probl--?

MCI: [interuppting me] How about I just give you some time to think about it and I call you back later OK?

Me: No that's not OK!

MCI: OK? [talking over me telling him not to call back] OK! I'll call you back later! [*click*]



Dicks. Isn't there some law that says they can't call me back if I tell them not to? I got another call from some woman the next night and told her not to call back before we got very far. We'll see what happens...

Today I am nervous. I put in a job application last week and they haven't called yet. I got a letter from them yesterday stating they'll be calling this week to schedule interviews, along with some voluntary EOE/AA paperwork for the university. I threw out the voluntary thing since the person that makes the hiring decisions won't actually see that they should hire me and get AA points. It's Wednesday and still no call. Today I am nervous.

I am a bad chewer. Sometimes I just forget to chew. Or, I'm just not coordinated enough to handle all of the action in my mouth necessary for eating some days. Today I forgot to chew a miniature Matzo Cracker. Those hard-as-a-rock hexagon-shaped crackers were donated to our food pantry and I stole them. I steal from the poor sometimes. Technically, it's not stealing. When different kinds of food comes into the pantry, I put them in a milk crate and set it outside the office. It's the freebie box and anybody's welcome to its treasures: boxes of cook & serve pudding that look like they could be from the '70s, dented and label-free cans, banged up boxes, lonely packets of cream of wheat separated from their box, home-canned jams, sardines, octopus... Someday I may create a top-ten list of interesting and different food pantry donations. Leslie has file-cabinet of fame with extra-special items we ran across. So, anyway, the matso crackers were destined for the freebie box. I just omitted the middle man and pocketed them. I'm anybody too.



I must have swallowed too early, because all of a sudden I had a very uncomfortable feeling in my esophagus. The pain set in as it oozed down the muscle slowly. I tried to melt it with the soup I had brought to accompany it, but this is no Saltine. This is Jewish food. It doesn't budge easily. After five-ten minutes (it's hard to keep track of time during an emergency) of fierce uncomfort, it wiggled it's way down enough for me to throw away the emergency post-it I wrote:


I have a cracker in my throat.

I can breathe for now, but if I

do the choking sign, please

quickly remember your CPR

training. -Melissa

Today I am recovering from an ill. It may be a bug or it may "just" be allergies. Whatever it is, it sucks. It makes me gooey and my sneezes turn heads in the hallway. Today I make more progress on Neptune which pleases me. Today I have no aspriations, except those of a decent meal and a good night's sleep. Next weekend is too far away.

Today the kitty cats stole my cotton balls again. They snag them from off the bathroom counter and drag them all over the house, trailing evidence. I couldn't even find where they left the bag this morning so no witch hazel for me! Perhaps I should keep them in a drawer... the cotton balls, that is, not the cats. Today I resist the work muffins and chocolate cake and danishes, but snag a couple bags of low-cal bagels to take home. Someone over at Panera thinks they're really clever with their Day-End Dough-Nation program that brings us yesterday's bakery items to give to "the needy." Today I am needy. I need hugs and love notes. Good thing I have a sweetie that delivers both.

Today I wear my pink bell sleeve blouse I bought seven seasons ago. It finally started to look cute, so out of the return bag it came, and off with the tags! I've been getting comments about how cute it is all day, which really isn't a good thing, because I want to be able to wear cute things without it being novel.

Today I eat a monster cookie. Oatmeal M&M from Great Plains Sauce & Dough, serving the best thick-crust pizza in Ames. Which actually doesn't say much, but what can I do? This is my home now and I like it here. Today I read my current's ex's blog and wonder if I would be her if it weren't for finding my niche at IMSA. She's dramatic and emoteful and obscure and she knows all the new lingo. Today I wear my crushed velvet green T which is so 1996, and my Lane Bryant Stretch(tm) jeans cinched with my belt flap drooping awkwardly above my left hip. I yawned all day and despite my 10 hours of sleep last night, I just wanted to curl up in a lap and sleep the partly cloudy away. Mia is just as desperate as ever. If we make eye contact over breakfast, she'll meow until I leave for work. I wonder if she even knows what she wants because she doesn't stop if I feed or pet her.