Posts Tagged ‘birthday’

I turned 31 yesterday. Not exactly a milestone birthday like 16, 21 or 30. I spent it writing articles, slinging long-sleeved t-shirts and v-neck sweaters and watching my Bills lose a heartbreaker to the Patriots on Monday Night Football. Just take a knee, Leodis. Take a knee. Why couldn’t you have taken a knee?

Anyway, I could depress myself for the rest of the week thinking about how Buffalo came oh-so-close to beating Captain PrettyBoy Brady and the rest of his turd-tastic team. But as a 31 year-old adult, I’m going to forget about it and concentrate on the things in my life that have actual importance, meaning and relevance. Like the upcoming NHL hockey season.

Wifey bought me some much-needed items of clothing as a birthday present, as well as a much-needed pizza. It’s kind of a tradition that I eat Pizza Hut pizza on my birthday. I’ve done it it every year since I was a kid, and the pizza seems to taste worse and get more expensive every year. Seriously? 20 bones for a large supreme? And it tastes like warm ass and rubber tires? We should’ve spent $5 on a Red Baron or at least got one from a local pizzeria. Back in my day, pizza tasted like tomato sauce and mozzarella cheese and fresh dough. Now it tastes like pennies and sweat and plastic. “Back in my day.” I can say that now because I’m 31 and I used to have a day way back in the day, back in my day.

Also, what happened to KFC? Another one that used to be good way back in the day. Now I can’t even drive by one without wanting to dig up the Colonel and shove the atrocity they call “mashed potatoes” into his dead, zombie mouth.

The malljob is starting to become more of a hassle than it was a few months ago. I’m at the point in my freelancing where I can’t justify driving 30 minutes each way to a 4-hour shift at a job that pays slightly more than minimum wage. In all honestly, I need those 5 hours to be writing and making real money. I initially got the job as a time-waster – something to get me out of the house and keep me busy for an afternoon. I don’t mind working the malljob one or two days a week because I get a pretty nifty discount on lesbian hiking gear. But they recently had two people quit to pursue better opportunities, leaving us part-timers to pick up the slack. Not a big deal if you want or need the hours. But I don’t. I’m happy working a couple times a week. I’m not complaining, because I’m all about making extra money. However, I can make more extra money by doing additional freelance writing, not from folding t-shirts. I think I’m just about ready to quit malljob altogether and concentrate on the freelancing. Then again, maybe I should wait until I absolutely have enough clients to make that a reality. It’s in the pipeline. We’ll see what happens in the next few weeks.

In the meantime, I’m going to fire up Word and start another article. I might heat up a slice of leftover cancerpie. I mean Pizza Hut pizza. Then I’m going to have some leftover birthday cake. Then I’m going to find Ronald McDonald and force him to make out with the zombie Taco Bell dog. Then I’ll go to the doctor and he’ll tell me to stop eating like a 9 year-old because I’m 31 and there is something called “cholesterol” that has already begun to kill me.

Hockey starts in 2 weeks.


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Malljob cut down on hours. This week, I’m only pulling in eight. Let me do the math, here:

8 hours multiplied by [whatever I make at malljob per hour] equals [wow, I think I have that buried in my couch crevices] minus taxes equals [I can make more money in just 15 minutes by unbuttoning my shirt and wearing shortyshots outside the Wal•Mart].

Wifey is now happily off to school every morning, getting her classroom decorated. Full time job, that wife of mine. And what does she do? She elects to keep her other 18 jobs and picks up a Labor Day shift. So there goes my big plans for Labor Day. You know, sailing on the bay (is there a bay around here?) and wearing all white for one last time this year (yeah right, I like to piss off the rich cougars at the mall with my white pants/boat shoes combination in mid-November) or whatever it is that people do to celebrate labor. Also, I didn’t win the Mega Millions, so… I don’t have a sailboat. This Labor Day is gonna suck.

Also coming up: my birthday. I’ll be turning 31 in a couple of weeks. To celebrate, I think we’ll go out to some fancy local restaurant then watch my Bills beat the Patriots on Monday Night Football. I artfully left a link to a website that sells knock-off football jerseys in Wifey’s email, hoping she’ll get the hint and get one for me. Because 40 smacks for a stitched jersey is a bargain, even if the colors are slightly (drastically) off and Reebok is spelled “Rearbox”. It’s my birthday, dammit, and I’m watching football in a counterfeit Trent Edwards jersey if I so desire. And I hate you Tom Brady. Do you hear me? I hate you and your perfect face.

I’m starting to get some more business tossed my way. Which is unbelievably awesome. I had a couple of meetings last week that went really well and I hope will lead to steady work. Now I have an excuse when Wifey comes home and asks if I forgot how to operate a vacuum. Hey! I’m workin’ over here!

My computer room is more like a real grown-up office now. Cluttered. Dusty. Smells like whiskey, printer ink and mansweat. I need a new desk chair, though. This one doesn’t lean back to an appropriate napping level.

This is Day 138, folks. Pursuing happiness. Or “happyness”. You know, like the movie? The Pursuit of Happyness? I’m pretty sure there was a Y in there somewhere. Anyway, that’s what I’m doing. And I’m getting there. Almost. We’re almost there.

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Malljob hooked me up with a full week of work, today being my only day off from the retail establishment. I’ve got a laundry list of things I need to get done today, including, well – laundry and a few days worth of articles and an impromptu Bloggers’ Symposium with my interweb partner-in-crime. Add to that the personal writing project that needs attention, employment opportunities that need my résumé, and an unkempt lawn and you’ve got yourself the recipe for a busy day. I’ve already pounded a pot of coffee and I’m about to start chewing on the doorknobs. Oh, and we’re starting a new exercise routine tonight. One that involves me curled up in the fetal position trying to catch my breath and sobbing while my wife runs around the park hurdling puddles like a gazelle.

We had a great weekend with Wifey’s birthday on Saturday. Had a absolutely amazing dinner at Acacia (on Cary & Robinson, for all you RVAers), then met up with some friends for drinks at a couple of nighttime hotspots around town. Going out on the town with friends is something we haven’t been able to do for a hot minute because of our money situation. But, being a special occasion, we sucked it up, had some laughs and celebrated her making it through another year. Needless to say, somebody had a head like a mule (her father’s saying for ‘headache’) for her brunch shift the next morning.

Being Monday, I have high expectations for the week ahead. While I’m not sure I’ll hear anything back from the job opportunity in Charlotte this week (still keeping fingers and toes crossed for that one), I am expecting a couple of calls for other projects that will keep me afloat for a little while longer. With malljobbin’ all this week, I’m limited to working on my freelance undertakings in the early morning or late at night. Which is fine with me. I’m usually pretty productive in the early mornings, right after I gnaw on a doorknob.

I wasn’t going to mention Noodles the kitten because I don’t want to be one of those insane feline-freaks who talk about cats on their blog. Okay, I’ll be honest. My last blog about the cat received the most traffic on this site in a while. Cat people are strange, and they like to read about the kittehs. Believe me, I used to work with a cat lady. She would spend the better part of her day searching for cats on the internet and looking at pictures and videos of cats sleeping. So, yeah. Shameless inclusion of Noodles the Cat in this post, just so I can tag it “Cat” and get more traffic. Whatever. Don’t hate.

This is Day 110, folks. Busy week ahead. New exercise routine that will give me shin splints and hopefully get rid of one of my chins. Malljobbin’ like a champ. Ready to sink my teeth into a regular full-time career. In the meantime, I think I’ll sink my teeth into the cat.

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