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10.20.04 October - 5:47 PM
So... In a continuing quest to always be different, while the rest of the country is relatively clear of rain, here, in Orange County, it is raining. And it has been raining for 5 days now. Not like this is news. Any surface on earth that is to sustain a life form for any period of time must have the luxury of rain from time to time. No big deal, right? Not front page news stories hey? Unless you live in Orange County. But that's California for you. You gotta love it. Well, I do anyhow. I spent enough time and money getting back here so I better. And everything is good. I got the job I wanted. I got an apartment that isn't a blue box. It's actually quite nice place for being one that is squished in between 699 apartments just like it. The weather is great (even with rain). My bar still stands and the friends I left there are, well, still there. I'm happy to be back and it's all good. Except for the fact that I managed to get myself a bathroom nemesis. Yes, that's right, a bathroom nemesis. I don't know how it happened. I just was peeing one day and - POOF!- there she was. El Nemesis-o. Let me explain. My work gives it's employees all the soda, bottled water, coffee, tea, hot cocoa, and milk shakes (Yeah, milk shakes. Don't get it) one employee could possibly desire, all for the cost of nothing. Nada. Zilcho. Hey! I like soda! I like water! I like coffee! I like tea! I like no pay! So long story short, I drink a lot of fluids at work. Because it's free, see? I don't have to pay. At home? I pay for what I drink (albeit via grocery store, but you know). At work? No pay. FREEFREEFREEFREE. So I drink, and I pee. I pee a lot. I think if you add it all up, I'm probably peeing, or preparing to pee, or just leaving the peeing room at least 45 minutes a day. Maybe more. I don't know. I guess you can say that even though I talk like I added it up in my head, I really didn't. That was a guess. You caught me. All I really know is that I pee a lot. And I guess, so does my nemesis. She must pee at least as much as I do. Maybe more. All I know is that whenever I go in the bathroom, she's there. Maybe leaving, maybe just got there. But there. She's always there. And I'm sure she thinks the same thing about me. And I hate her. You know why? She never washes her hands. Never. Not once. She pees, she leaves. No washie washie. Sometimes no flushie flushie. I hate that. I hate that I know I have to touch the same door handle as her when I leave. It creeps me out. But people, that doesn't make a nemesis. Oh no. Nemesis' must hate you back. And she does. I think this week I figured out why. The toilet seat cover. I don't use one. I never have. I never will. I'm not sitting on a piece on paper that has the potential to stick to my ass when I stand up after being halfway in 'god knows what crawled in there' toilet bowl. BUT, my nemesis uses one. I hear her pull one out of the box. "SWIIIISCH" Always loudly, like she's making a point. Then the tell-tale crinkly-ness of the fine art of getting a thin piece of wrapping paper to sit properly on a porcelain seat. Or, as I know, the crinkly-ness of a person telling me she is so not using the same stall as I was in next time she's in there (which will be in about 15 minutes) as she knows damn well that I didn't use a god damn toilet seat cover. All I have to say to that is, "wash your hands bitch". Hey! Look at me! That is so an entry like I used to write when I was in California last! Pointless and Gross. That's so cool. Yay me and California entries! Har. Want to know what's even better? That's all I'm going to leave you with. Hey, when it's good, why ruin it? Hee. Hope you and yours are well. Till later. -Moe |
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