I Dream of Sethy

2005-02-11, 1:14 a.m.

Did you know that it takes approximately one hour and a half for me to get home every night? And for me to get to work each day? That is three hours of bullshit right there.

I could drive from my hometown to my adopted hometown and back TWICE in that time. And they're 100 km apart! I am catching up on my reading though.

I know. Get a car, right? But here's the thing. I had this dream, see. And in this dream, I was making out with Seth from the O.C. and it was all good, and then somebody phoned and interrupted us and told me I had to pay $11,000 to the woman I stupidly nudged with my auto almost two years ago. And then I woke up thinking, Wow. Good thing that was a dream! I'd still like to be making out with Adam Brody though.

So I did the thing where you lay down and try your best to rejoin the dream. Become one with the dream. If you concentrate very hard, you could go back to that mysterious place where Adam Brody was telling you how beautiful you were and kissing you repeatedly. But it never works. You never reach that exact dream again.

Especially not if somebody phones you and says: "HA! YOU WISH IT WAS A DREAM! PLEASE PAY US $11,000!"

Did I mention that they phoned at 7 a.m.? I didn't? I coulda' sworn I did. Did I also mention that when I finally came around from my half-awake state, I told the person phoning me that I was refusing to pay anything or do anything until I spoke with a lawyer, because honestly. I FUCKING NUDGED HER. There is no fucking way she has $11,000 worth of injuries and I will fight this because a) I can't afford $11,000 and b)Why did nobody ask me about the accident during the course of this supposed investigation to find out just how "injured" she was?

Could you all just...give me a second? I need to just....

AUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sorry. Sorry about that. I just wanted to, you know. Scream a little. Just a little totally non-weird, stress-relieving screaming.

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In other news: I have found an apartment, hooked up my cable and internet, managed to survive on saltines, styro-soup and juice boxes for the last little while, and begun thoroughly enjoying my new job. Except for the crazy commute. Oh well. I blame the system. And the man. And I strongly suggest we all buck/damn them.

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