Now That We're Best Friends -

Kevin has been sick.  And I mean sick where it gets to the point of annoying.  CAN YOU COUGH ANY LOUDER?  And since there's obviously no chance that I'll acquire this disease because my body is immune to illness, I've been extra snuggly to make him feel less sick.  I've also been boiling water nonstop so that I can refill his tea whenever it gets too low.  Am I a really great/slightly negative fiance or what?

Anytime I sit on the couch, like I'm doing right now, Ripley, "The World's Most Vocal Feline," curls his body around my head, balances on the cushion behind me, and starts to flex his claws into my neck.  Which, of course, I never trim because I'm terrified I'll injure him.  So not only does he meow for eight hours straight each day, he also has mini daggers built into his paws that he uses to shred up the couch and the rug and the chairs and the carpet and my neck when he's curled behind me on the couch.  (Oh, and yes, I wear a nightgown fashioned for people in the 1800's.  And yes, I just woke up.  Don't judge.)

Sundays are the days I write the script for The Almost Weekly Show and catch up on all the homework that I'll definitely neglect between Monday and Friday.  Sometimes, I even decide to neglect it today.  However, since I don't have a job lined up, and will probably never have a job lined up because (as I explained in my last entry) the economy is dumb right now, I better get decent grades so that I don't end up working at the same stupid radio station for the rest of my life (kill me now).  At this point, I'd rather manage fast food.  Which!  You can make a ton of money at.  My only disappointment in that specific post-college avenue would be that I was an Associate Manager of a Fazoli's when I was 18, and with my work ethic, I would have probably been running a restaurant by the time I was 25 or 26.  And I wouldn't have needed a college degree for that.  So to resort to the career path I was on before I decided to go to college would probably leave me crying into a half gallon of ice cream every night while I watched depressing documentaries on Netflix about college students that were working for hourly wages in fast food.

I've been reading Bitter is the New Black by Jen Lancaster and instead of making me feel better, it's just making me more resentful about the fact that I haven't done anything awesome yet with my life.  I measure success by how many people know about it.  Frankly, I don't care if that makes me sound like someone who has "the wrong priorities."  I handle mine, you handle yours, and you can leave your opinions about my life at the door because I don't give a crap.  However, if you want to tell me your opinions about someone else's life, I'm all ears.  And just to clarify, my life rocks.  I have loving friends and family.  An incredible fiance.  A cat who (to my dismay) thinks that I'm a goddess.  Good grades, and before 2008, a bright future.  But, I haven't done anything awesome yet.  And I want to be awesome.  And I'm not sure how, but I figure between music, media, and my "give me this opportunity or I'll cut you" enthusiasm, I've got a shot.

Alright, off to be Head Writer and Student Extraordinaire for a while.