9:42 p.m. - 2002-12-20
I Spilled Sauce All Over My Jeans
Oh, what a day. What a tumultuous day. First of all, I'm more tired than I have ever been. I have been rising at 6am for the past five days, working eight hour shifts with no breaks, or chances to sit down, and going to bed late because my stupid alarm clock won't stop ringing. I cannot wait until Sunday, where I will attempt a marathon sleep. I've also been feeling sad. About what, I don't know. I have a job. I have money. I have plans. What right do I have to feel down? It must be that male PMS I spoke of.

On my lunch "hour", I went to Pizza Hut, got a personal pan pizza and breadsticks, and spilled BBQ sauce all over my fucking jeans. Picture it: Bright red sauce all over the front of my light blue jeans. I was alone, hungry, and mortified. I dashed back to the shop, squishing my legs together so no one could see the red mess, and went home to change.

At 4:30, it started to pour, just as I was leaving. Even with an umbrella, I got soaked, down to my socks. I didn't go into town like I planned, I went home, which is very bad. I just couldn't imagine holding the umbrella in one hand and balancing Christmas packages in the other, wading through the flooded streets.

And now I'm very, very tired.

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