Relax, it's just me

So, you'll notice that more than a month has passed since my last post. I know that had each and every one of you (read: nobody) hooked with only two posts, and that your lives have been thrown into imbalance because you don't know what's going on with me. How's his apartment? Did he throw more stuff away? Has his attitude towards fellow bloggers changed? Does he realize that his talking to a non-existent and therefore completely made-up audience is tantamount to his having a conversation with an imaginary person? Did he just type that?

Well, get up off your couch, throw away the ice cream carton, put down the zoloft - I'm back. Though this next statement will be contradictory to the fact that I write all of these (3) posts from work, please believe me when I say that I have been busy. That's at least the excuse that I give myself and others.

In fact, I'm pretty lazy.

I graduated from a fancy private university with a BA in international studies. That's what happens when you decide while waiting tables in college that being "happy" and doing "what you love" is better than being able to pay your bills every month, living in a cool loft downtown, and driving a schnazzy car. We all made fun of business majors while we were in school - claiming that they had no souls, were in it only for the money, and would never be satisfied with pushing papers and crunching numbers. Well, folks, I was wrong.

Somehow I ended up as an event planner. That means I have papers to push, numbers to crunch, and alot of self-important ass to kiss. So basically, instead of finding a job that has meaning, I found one that does not pay and at which I have to work ungodly hours. I then go home to my apartment in the 'hood, decide which bills to pay, and do it all over again the next day. Now, I suppose that things aren't entirely as bleak as I make them. I get to meet interesting people. Drive around senators. Meet Bono. My boss never lets an opportunity go by without placating me with reminders of the "intangibles" of my job. Apparently he lives in a world where such "intangibles" are easily substituted for hard currency that one can use to keep the lights on in one's dimly lit shithole.

I'm in a big funk today. I apologize for whining so much. I promise not to bitch quite so much next time.