I now have 40 minutes to kill before I have to go to my mom's school to pick up the Focus. For me, simply driving this car is very high on my list of things that kick ass about tonight. God damnit, I love that car. And to think, had my dad never left, I would have never experienced it's joy. That sounds callous, doesn't it?

The other good thing about tonight is that, previously unbeknownst to me, I do know the venue is and it's right on State St which is oh-so-very convenient. I also just realized that the show is at 7:30 instead of 8:30 which is nice because it means that we'll probably get home around midnight, or at least no later than 1 which means that I should be able to make to class in the morning without feeling like I am the walking dead.

I had my annual review today and kicked ass on that. Ann, of course, had no idea how much my raise would be, but I'm pretty sure that it's going to be a whopping $.37, which is sadly the highest raise I'm even eligible for. That puts me at about $7.72 an hour after 3 years. Just another one of the reasons why retail sucks. The only thing that Ann gave me to work on for the year was to take an active role in the training program for all of the new cashiers and service desk people. And since I am a work-aholic, masochistic loser who cares far too much about her part-time job, I have already come up with my first training idea, which I will propose to Debbie the next time I see her. It makes me wonder, "Why the hell am I so goddamn invested?" And all for a a $.37 cent raise. Ann did tell me that I was among the top 10% in terms of valubale employees, but even if that were true, it sure is hell isn't saying much. I was just glad that she didn't bring up my piercings or my goddamn Smart Plan percentages. Regardless, I guess I think that the more you put into something, the more you get out of it. And I do think that I've put more into this job than a lot of the people that I work with, and it has served me pretty well. Not only do I get hours out the ass, but I think I am regarded by management with a level of respect and confidence that only a few of the part-timers get. And I guess on a certain level, I'm pretty damn proud of myself for that, despite my feeling that it's stupid to be. Whatever. It just proves that I have inherited my father's work ethic (that being, bust your ass no matter the cost) which is certainly one of his best, if not the best, quality about him. The man knows how to get shit done.

Speaking of my father, I think we're back to at least a normal father-daughter relationship, meaning we are relating to each other once again in a heartfelt, authentically loving manner, rather than simply being cordial. Granted, there is an unspoken agreement to disagree, but I think the feeling of utter alienation from each other is gone, and I'm glad it didn't stick around very long. I suppose that means I should go an see him sometime . . .

Neko was just trying to swat at the blinds and fell out the window. Poor baby.

Do you suppose I can fit a futon mattress into my Golf?

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