i'll never be picture perfect beyonce

forgot my ipod this morning.

i am going to die on the way home. i realize i didn't die on the way in, but the ipod is infinitely more crucial after work than before work. blasting whatever my jam du jour is is the equivalent of an ice cold brewski for another worn-down "professional." sigh. this is going to be the longest commute of my life, and i'm not even going to be on the orange or red lines.

13 days later and i'm still not over it.

me: "i didn't know we were engaging in psychological warfare."
him: "always. you're in the united states congress."

and that would probably describe my entire internship experience.

it would be really, profoundly, spectacularly amazing if i could find a new job.

i'm going to need people to stop calling me fat.

sigh. so i haven't written every day like i had wanted. basically, it's because i've been engaging in activity that is kind of shameful, and i don't feel comfortable describing it. i've been flirting with scandal in the worst ways, and it's so out of character. but at the same time, i've felt much more stimulated these last couple of weeks than i have all summer. so i don't regret any of it at all.

and i need to find another job by august 20th. no big.