Log in

No account? Create an account
Seventeen ways to fight boredome at my job at the public libary - La Petite Mort [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Spinning 45 Ballerina

[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ archive | journal archive ]

Seventeen ways to fight boredome at my job at the public libary [Sep. 1st, 2005|09:41 am]
Spinning 45 Ballerina

Number one: Making a note on my account that tells who ever is serving me that I have in fact got super powers, then starting to look forward to the next time I go to the library. Than thinking that this is really sad, especially when it’s not even my idea, just an idea I’ve stolen from my boyfriend’s co-workers at the library where he works. (Not how we met.)Number two: Taking a ten minute cigarette brake witch actually turns out to be about four minutes because one of the few things more boring than my job is the parking lot outside of my job. Number three: Is quite obvious; righting this blog entry. Number four: Is a surprise, actually working, who would have thunk? People actually using their library. Never for good though, always for evil. Number five: Thinking about my wardrobe and checking out a couple of gothy online shops. Today I’m wearing a mans shirt witch is white, with a striped black and white necktie that matches my striped thigts and a black velvet sixties babydollich dress. It's all very Adams family Wednesday. And this is Number six: Telling People on the Internet what I am wearing, a hobby I shear with thousands of board teenagers all over the cyber space. Number seven: Thinking about what to wear on Halloween. Its not so far of now, maby I’l go as my favorite my little pony, or maybe something über goth like the bride of Frankenstein. Number eight: Reading A Clockwork Orange. I would go as Droogie at Halloween if it wasn’t so incredibly unoriginal. Number nine: Telling my co-workers about the crazy people I’ve met today. Sometimes working at this place It’s like working at mental institution. Number ten: Thinking about what to have for dinner, my mother and her boyfriend are hopefully on there way to sunny Crete right now and I’ve got the plays for myself for a couple of days. I think I’m going to buy some cauliflower, mushrooms and some chips. Mmm, I’m so poor.

Number eleven: “Oh would you look at the time, just half an hour until I’m getting out of here”. Now steering fixedly at the clock, wishing. almost willing it to turn seven. Number twelve: Thinking about throwing a party, and then reconsidering, my friends all crazy mothers and so is my mother.  I would never let them even close to my wonderful and always delightfully clean residency. Number thirteen: (Lucky thirteen) My house is so dirty I can’t have people over, and now I’m thinking about cleaning it. Depressing. Number fourteen: Thinking about washing my hair. Number fifteen: Violently clearing up behind the counter. Omg, gett me out of here. Number sixteen: Getting a movie for myself to watch this evening, therse one here with this really gay sailor on the cover, maybe I’ll get that one. Number seventeen: Not doing this anymore, it’s started boring me now. Can’t find anything ells to wright. I’m afraid I stopped being anything close to funny a long time ago.