Teretz Syndrome

Sunday, February 2, 2003. 8:40PM

This should be a fairly bland log, I think. Not, however, because I haven't done anything. No, had I done nothing I could no doubt regale you with tales of the insignificant achievements, conversations, ideas and so forth that would have occurred. No, this log will be bland because I have done nothing but work. It seems that I am working full time, in fact, I am working more than full time. Were I too work full time I would be working nine to five, but instead I am working nine till six, occasionally nine till eight, and once, nine till about eleven. This job is killing me. Even today, my one day off... my respite if you will, I was too exhausted to really bother doing anything.

So, there you have it. My week. Working.



Oh, all right, I guess I should write some more.

But what?

What indeed?

I have observed the forums quickly slipping into depravity. Don't know why that doesn't surprise me.

Received an e-mail from a girl I barely know and haven't seen in six months. That did surprised me.

I seem to get into a lot of fights at work, people complaining about books and so on. I've sworn at a few people. Quite a few have asked to speak to the manager after dealing with me. I've learnt to understate what we can do, and then help them, for example, we're meant to check four books, so I tell them I can only check three, then they ask for four and I say "oh, well, I guess I can make an exception just for you..." and they're all like "Oh, thank you so much." This one guy came in once wearing this shirt, with a picture of Don Vito Corleone, and the word "Respect." I told him it was cool, and winked at his girlfriend. I wink at a lot of girls. There's this one guy who writes his number on the back of a few business cards and hands them out to hot girls, but personally, I don't have the balls for that kind of thing.

Oh yeah, once on the forums I mentioned that there was this girl at work with the body of a Goddess, who I watched move a lot. Well, we went out for a work dinner one night, and she gave me a lift home. I noticed that her car didn't have P's on it, so I guess she must be 20. Minimum. I wouldn't have pegged her for more than 18. There's this other girl there who is hot, but in a complete opposite kind of way. More a robust beauty. Taller. Bigger breasts. Not too sure about her. She scares me just a little. Why does this log always come back to girls?

I went out to a film on Friday (The Man From Elyesian Fields - 'twas okay. I'll review it presently) and did my best to compose a depressing poem on the train on the way home. I had quite a few nearly suicidal verses happening but them time I went to bed, but I fell asleep, and in the morning I wasn't depressed enough to re-imagine it. Shame. I wouldn't mind a bohemian lifestyle of black coffee, green alcohol, and yellow girlfriends. John Lennon lives forever!

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