Fuck. Nothing's going right these days. It could be argued that things are going right, and I need to change my perspective, but I'm not going to get into that.

My whole to-do list today centered around me cashing a paycheque first. That's not going to happen. I didn't understand the payroll schedule when I asked for them to not mail it this week. I naturally thought that mailing the cheques would make them arrive later, and so I wanted to pick this one up before I leave town. It seems they put a rush on the mailed ones so that they arrive on time, meaning mine won't actually be ready before I go. How am I going to pay rent and refill a 'script by Wednesday? This news had me teary-eyed in Scotia Square, so I switched my Walkman and stormed around town listening to Crossed Out. I returned to the office on my way home, to stop in after the boss had returned from her lunch break. we have a few possible solutions, so things aren't as dire now. It just means instead of going to a pharmacy, I get to spend the day cleaning my room and packing. No biggie, really. But, still...FUCK.

Four years ago I broke my word and we brought Claudette home for dinner.