Miriam (my sister) and her husband Ryan have bought a contracting company in the arse end of Eugene, not too far -at all- from Jor and I's apartment at Redwood Village. Ford and Associates. Right now I'm sitting at a desk that's not been cleaned off properly in years, half a foot from this decrepit old computer that I'm told does not work, yet has sticky notes and taped bits of paper fluttering from it like a very expensive and dusty grey pinata. I am half convinced that if I got a stick and beat it open, it would not be small children and intrepid squidlets that'd gather up what fell out, but inventive individuals with an eye towards tech-punk jewelery and home-brewed deathrays.

Anyway, this job is awesome. I'm sitting with my youngest squid; my neice Grace-Anna. Gracie is so cute. I am mildly distressed though; we have on very similar blouses, and she's... um... I think she's four *is a terrible aunt*.

I'm answering phones right now. It's excellent. There's no oil jumping at me. The other day I burned my fucking eye at the frier, so this is like central-air heaven. I am however having a really hard time not answering with really geeky things. "The fold drive has been severely damaged captain! Also Adam from Laserfish is on line two. Want me to take a message? RICK HUNTER YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW! Yes I'll tell him you called."

It's good though. I like this kind of work. Filing and all that. Very zen or summat. I have the feeling the senior secretary is giving me the grave-eye, though. I don't want her job, but I don't know how to tell her that without looking REALLY stupid. Cause then she'll be like: Oh NO dearie, I never meant that! I did all those shiesty things because I'm old! (or something).

Maybe I'll update her computer. >.> <.< >.> Or take a bat to the old computer next to me. Like Office Space, only without the terrible music. I think I'll turn on Wagner and horrify my ancestors.

ANYWAY! When this company gets off the ground I shall have a good job that pays well! And I will quit Jack in the Crack and raise my mighty fist to the sky!
Immediately following I'll spend too much on hippie skirts and nice-ish shirts, so I'm not wearing the same thing alla the time. Till then, though, my clothes will have to smell like french fries with a side of rancid shortening. Mmm-mm! Franchisee!