grumblecakes

I've been trying to think of something impersonal enough to write about in my blog. My thoughts have turned to my relationship problems, my personality flaws, the question of whether I would regret getting a tubal ligation at my age... all of these issues seem a bit too personal to discuss in writing at the moment, even if my readership only consists of myself and my friend Brian, who will tire of me soon enough (Shout out to Brian, "Yo!").

Preparations for future unemployment are going slowly. I supposedly started following my new budget today, as it is the first of the month. I find myself wondering if I should stay employed up until the moment I go away for grad school (or the moment I find out I haven't been accepted anywhere, at which point, plan "Marijuana in the Mountains" would go into effect, or "Booze on the Beach", or "Heroin Anywhere".... but I digress). I still salivate at the thought of having a few months to just work on writing and not work at a proper job, but this whole economy thing is starting to make me a bit more nervous. Also the trips I'm planning will not be completely free. And do you know how much it costs to eat gluten-free? Too fucking much, that's how much. Peanut-butter and jelly is like a whole different scenario when your bread costs $6 a loaf. Oh look, I'm whining again. Sorry.

Still trying to learn some Russian and some Italian. Still trying to form platonic friendships with men. Still fighting the good fight. At least, I hope it's the good fight.

working for a living

Oh my. I actually worked a full day today, no goofing off and no Facebook or other distractions. Being onsite is good for that. I do, apparently, still have a little bit of a work ethic, but only for work I don't actually think is particularly important. I guess someone has to do it. I guess.

Joshua has informed me that my Russian lessons will be starting in earnest tomorrow. I honestly can't remember the alphabet. Italian isn't going much better -- I know a handful of words (colors, body parts, and articles of clothing, mostly -- nothing useful). What I actually might need to say in Italian would be "Does this have gluten?" and "Why are you laughing at me?" Of course I'll be happy just to drink wine and read some books. I can eat some tomatoes or something.

I'm still waffling about my plans for travels to Ukraine or wherever else. I suppose I have a few months to figure out what I'm doing, but as I have never actually made my own plans before, it seems a daunting task. The only person who seems willing to make plans for me this time around is my mother, and obviously she is disqualified. Am off to the weird doctor again tomorrow. Perhaps he'll have a new theory, or some new advice that I can ignore. We take what we can get.