I am elated, as in, I can’t sleep because I am going on vacation. Leaving the continent. And not with my folks. Looking at pictures on flickr tagged Waikiki ARE NOT HELPING.

I wrote a final for one my classes on Saturday, and promptly booked this upcoming vacation as well as signed up for another class. I only have one on the go now, and frankly, I’m pretty happy with that. I have a few weeks to wrap up my assignments, and then it is over for a while.

Life is boring! With the exception of the voodoo-lady at work who I think is trying to kill me by boring through the back of my head with her death-glare. I don’t get people in trouble, internets, lies do.

Wow. So that’s like, all. I’ll try harder tomorrow.

“No matter how busy you may think you are, you must find time for reading, or surrender yourself to self-chosen ignorance.” Confusius

So. Here I am.

I’m also writing a paper for a course I was foolish to take, but I hit a roadblock. The part of the paper where I have to think creatively… it’s not happening tonight.

I’ve been trying to scale back on the extra work at work. The bonus work. The you-handle-it-because-I’m-the-boss-of-you-and-I-don’t-want-to work. I think I’m being successful at it, but I think I might be compromising my position as the go-to person. Which is what I wanted… but now I feel left out. Why do I have to be such a girl sometimes?

Valentine’s was pretty rad this year. I wrote an essay for most of the day, and hung out at home alone. Mostly because I was in a bad mood and boyfriend didn’t want to be around to fall victim to the wrath. His peace-treaty offering was a burger from my favourite restaurant - the only one I can eat at without dying - made out of cashews and yams, and this cupcake which was deliciously spicy AND chocolaty.

The cinnamon heart on top brought back memories of elementary school Valentine’s Day parties. Those were super fun, right??

The first job I had in Calgary after I finished university was… what are the right words… a little low-brow, and a little below me. Not just the work, but the company itself. Boyfriend still works there. His work is different, but I have a hard time understanding why he would want to stay in that place, with those people for so long. Anyway, on my first day there, back in 2005… which I’m sure I documented somewhere around here they had an ice cream party. For Valentine’s Day. It was sort of sweet, and sort of super freaking weird. There were sprinkles involved. I’ve been told that they’re still doing it. Annually, just like Valentine’s Day itself.

I am rambling.

While I’m at it, I actually ran into somebody today at lunch time that worked for that company when I did. We  laughed about how we don’t understand why some people still work there, and enjoy it, while we were treated like crap and can’t wait to take the place off our resume because it’s an embarrassment. We’ve both been rejected for jobs because we worked for that company and they have a bit of a reputation for… being the mafia. Basically. But with ice cream.

OH! And… there’s a man who works there, and has for a number of years. As far as employer references go, that company is pretty much all he’s got. It’s pretty much the only place he’s ever worked. He’s gone back to school twice and earned two separate diplomas. He’s been sooooo close to getting hired for other companies, but has always been turned down. Finally! One company told him why they weren’t offering him the position he’d applied and interviewed for (twice!): the manager of the Valentine’s Day loving company was giving him a shit reference. When approached, she told him it was because she didn’t want him to leave. So, basically, as long as he needs a reference from an employer, he’s stuck there. Forever.

When I worked there it was psychological torture. I don’t know if I blogged about it or not. One of the supervisors was awful to me. Constantly threatening to fire me, or advising me to seek psychological help because I was allegedly threatening her employees (who never actually worked at the same time as me). It was bad. Right after I finally quit, she did too. I guess she got bored.

Well, time to get back to writing that paper. There’s nothing like the mention of elementary school to remind you of all the shit you’ve been through since then. Really.

I am getting used to being tired all the time. I am getting used to working 20 hours a day. I am not liking either.

I think going back to school. again. was a good idea. I just don’t think I’m learning anything I didn’t already know. I’m sure eventually I will get to some level of external auditing or taxation where I will be, “what the shit is this?” but for right now, I am tired and bored.

Right now I am so sick of reading stories about the stupid things people do with their blackberries. I’m tired of reading the word technostress. Technostress? Really? For realz, homez.

I am zonked. Had a good laugh today over a golden suit a boss-type at work wears. Not a bossy-type. That would be me. My new nickname at work is Bossy. Meh. It’s better than “the hammer.” Besides, I’m not really bossy, I’m controlling. Just ask my boyfriend.

Speaking of, we ordered shiney metal jewelry a while ago. On the interwebs, like all sentimental materials should be purcased… anonymously from strangers. They whould be arriving any day and I am quite excited. I don’t think I’ve ever worn jewelry that was made specifically for me before - and especially not as cool as this. I’m also excited to see how light they are - rings are so small and these are made out of titanium. So yeah… We’re still arguing over what hand to wear them on. I don’t want people asking when we’re getting married more frequently than I’m already being asked. I guess eventually people will get tired of asking and just assume in the future at some point and maybe spare me the asking part. Because, so you don’t have to ask, the answer is probably never.

Ok. Enough over sharing.