At my phone survey job a while back, one of the phone goons had the misfortune to dial a member of prepaid legal. So the guy pitches the survey. The respondent pitches prepaid legal. The phone goon came back with: "I'm not trying to sell you anything. You were trying to sell me something. "

Have changed the answering machine message to something far more passive-aggressive, aimed at she who leaves five-minute rambling messages that repeat the same thing ten times and are out of date before we get home to listen to them. I think most of the people who have reason to have the cellphone number have it -- if there's a local who needs it for something, poke me, 'k? It begins with (480), it's prepaid, and there are approximately two people who get to call me on it just to BS about stuff, not that they do. Everyone else gets to use the landline for random babbling. Urgent contact is one thing, random babbling is another. That's what text messages are for! Not that I can play with those at work.

Ikea run today. Laundry basket, handles, flour and sugar jars, things to keep me from tracking dirt on the carpets again, and looking at bed/chair pricing. I totally want to get that chair *now*, never mind that we don't have anywhere to put it.

The Mountain Dew machine was b0rked again today, not accepting bills. Advantages to being the cute guy with the red cube badge: random phone goons want to know if you need change. AM NOT EMBARKING ON A WORKPLACE FLIRTATION OH I AM SO NOT. NOT NOT NOT.

On end-of-training-Thursday, I bought myself a new star necklace. It's very close in design to the old one, the one that's in a little box by the working altar. This one is pewter instead of silver, cast a little more crudely, with a different ringy-thing (bail? is that the word?) and a different (pinker, faker) stone.

It might look nearly the same to someone who sees it around my neck. For nearly two months, my neck was naked. I've not taken this one off since I put it on, and it could be mistaken for the old one. It's not the same. It never will be the same. No one else* need know the difference.

(*Well, except for LJ, but that doesn't really make a dramatic exit line for a post.)

There was a fellow in the waiting room talking about how women do not need men but men need women and that is how the gays have it wrong. Except gays have women, just not in bed. They have mothers, sisters, friends. Lesbians have fathers, brothers, uncles. We bisexuals have everyone.

Reading City of Bones. I shall lend it to Darkside when I am done, if he wants to borrow it. I am looking forward to this long weekend. Today is a plasma day. One guy here seems to have no concept that the internal monologue should stay internal. I have to get the CV polished before I feel right about writing. I know I am a procrastinating bastard, but this is important. Obnoxious bastards are no fun. There was a guy who was trying to make conversation when I was giving off obvious vibes of reading. He was allegedly a reader himself, but did not seem to have the sensitivity to these things.

Turns out Vash had no treads. He needed a new set. Glad my intuition was working right. This is where the spare paycheck this next month is going. I do not think I will get done in time to give plasma, but that's ok. I would rather have a safe car. This phone also has internets. I should resist.