September 2nd, 2003


I’m getting to the point that it’s not going to matter if Joel has a job a lot longer. If it means massage and therapy and optional things have to go away, I’m getting to the point that I’ll just deal with that and possibly having my toes nailed to the ground as a more pleasant alternative than pretending my heart is in this and I can stand to do it much longer. Please, whatever Gods exist, could you speed up the geologic time clock that Qwest moves on? I’m getting desperate here. Ugh.

I came in to my boss in a snit this morning because one of the clients trying to get out of a bill turned us in to the Better Business Bureau and basically made up horse shit to do it. I’ve been the only one here most of the day because Charli had a doctor’s appointment to talk about her pregnancy. The boss has been irritating as all fuck and radiating annoyance, etc all day. Fortunately he is headed out of town for a few days. About god damned time. The business runs so much smoother when he’s not around and having paranoid fits we waste time chasing our tails about, etc.

I just feel bad because I know my birthday is this week and they’ve spend some cash, so I feel like I can’t just quit, but it’s going to be that or jail time before long for homicide. *sigh*