I�m really beginning to despise those gray box popup ads. I don�t know who is responsible for inventing those, but I have this feeling that my pathological liar, ex-boyfriend had something to do with it. Oh�speaking of which, I don�t know how how, but somehow he IMed me. While I was at my lab, I got some kind of message about him being offered an optional full or part time job making $30 an hour. Not only does he have the option of full or part time, he gets to pick his hours and he gets full benefits.
Then, of course, he had to add one little comment at the end.
�I don�t know if I�m going to take it though, cuz I still have 15 more interviews left.�
P, apparently, can�t be the normal type of liar, he�s gotta be over the top, so that there is not a chance in hell that he�s telling the truth. I�ve seen lawyers who have told less lies than that boy.
Come now, you might be saying, he could possibly be telling the truth!
Yes, of course, in today�s economy, someone with a below standard GPA and absolutely no work experience would be wallowing in job offers. Not only that, but he has so many, that people don�t even wait to meet him, they simply offer him the job on the spot. Yeah, I�ll believe that. Also, if he�s gotten all these jobs, why is he still living in his parents� house and not working?
Yes, yes, I used to date and love that psycho.
Well, the cat is still alive.
You might be asking yourself what exactly I�m talking about. So for your viewing pleasure, I�m going to tell you.
This morning, whilst I was curled up in my uber-comfortable bed, at approximately 8 am, I heard this awful shattering sound. I contemplated going back to sleep and leaving it for my roommate or later, but then I remembered that I have a ten pound, fluffy ball of joy who was probably responsible for that awful noise.
I got up, and saw about a billion shards of glass on the kitchen floor and my cat cowering under the chair. I started to brush all the shards into a pile to pick them up by hand, because we don�t have an actual broom, only one of those swiffer things. Well, Bandit, in all of his early-morning playfulness, kept trying to grab a shard in his mouth. I had to smack him on the back of the head twice to keep him from eating it. Then, he got smarter and picked one up and ran off with it. I tried chasing after him to get him to put it down, but alas, he was too fast for me.
I cleaned up the rest of the glass and went back to bed. It was during my especially weird dream that I realized that the cat could have swallowed that piece of glass, and it could be snaking its way through him, cutting up all of his internal tissue.
I found him and he seemed ok, but I was still wary. My mom told me that he probably would have been crying or something if he�d actually been dumb enough to eat the piece. So, I watched him for a few hours.
He still seems ok. It�s gonna be ok.
Damn cat.
