sepulchre

Last night was slow at work, and today is the same thus far. I am hoping the forecast for chilly rain tomorrow will bring some people in. This place is like a fucking tomb when there are no patrons here.

It’s also tomb-like in the way it has buried any creative initiative I once had for my work. I don’t feel like doing anything, except when I am actually interacting with patrons, such as when I perform a storytime. I don’t want to make any booklists because I don’t want to run the risk of my CrazyBitchBoss (TM) saying something pissy about them. I try ordering books that the teen patrons want, and she deletes them out of my cart because they are “vulgar.” Bitch, please. The Clique books are probably way less offensive than what these girls watch on cable. Besides, their parents know they will be reading them. Not only is my bozz “loco”, she wants to act “in loco parentis.” Whoah, lame pun. Sorry, guys, but this is what happens when my creativity is stymied.

Since I can’t do creative work, I’ve been scoping out things that I’d like to put in my new apartment. I’ve also been looking at kittens. When that gets boring, I work on revising my play. It is tough going. I am throwing out huge chunks of text because they are just plain dumb. I might end up changing the entire focus of the piece and rearranging the major relationships.

My landlord is being a whiny little bitch about my notice to vacate. I just want to yell at him, and say “I’m so sorry that when my lease was up, my mother’s death and the fact that my boyfriend broke up with me made it unfeasible for me to live on my own. But now I can, and I’ve given you over a month’s notice, and my roommate has a new tenant in line, so shut the hell up.” That really wouldn’t be productive, though, so I will just bite my tongue and say, “Dude, I’m responsible, shit will be okay.”

I am cranky today. Wah.

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