Hay is for Horses and Heteros.

Blogging Jesus, strike me down.

You know what I do? I work and I sleep. That's about it.

It's not all bad, you know. I work with uh-MAY-zing people. Scotty and E-Dubz, that be a shout out to you, my fair friends. And the shit that happens at work? Epic to the point of painful laughter.

I got hit on yesterday. This would be something less incredible if it weren't for the fact that I was completely oblivious to it until afterwards, at which point I asked my co-worker/good friend Irina if that's what went down.

"Oh yeah, that dude was maaaaad hitting on you. That was almost sad how hardcore he was givin' 'er."

I had no clue! And then I started to feel bad, because I was so indifferent to the conversation he was trying to strike up with me, and I have to give him mad props for attempting to mack on such an obvious bitch. Anyways, I'm sure that he'll be back into the store sometime....apparently he works just down the street and he "loves this place". Direct quote, guys. When he does coming wandering in again, I'll be sure to let him know that "I'm spoken for*, but thanks anyways.".

On second thought...maybe I'll just play along. He wasn't completely unfortunate looking, but (not to sound vain) I'm a little out of his league. It could be fun* to just, you know, have someone adore me from afar and eventually end up following me home one night only to kill and dismember me. Or just have someone like me enough to want to come visit me where I work, even if I don't (want to) know them.

*Complete lies.

P.S. I didn't get to roll with my Halloween tradition. In fact, I didn't get to celebrate Halloween at all. This, however, does not mean that I am not a full-fledged trick 'r' treat looter; I've been scarfing down mini Crispy Crunches since the 30th. I feel WAY fat, and constantly jittery. No surprise there.