whatever

This will be somewhat of a stream of conscious entry so sit down, shut up, and here we go:

Work sucks ass, which is not a new concept, however this week brings on a whole new dimension of ass sucking. There is currently a conference going on all week. This means that people are coming in out of town; there is a set schedule of 8:30 to 5:00 even though I have to be here earlier to set up the conference rooms, and stay later to take them down. Since everyone taking part in the conference is at least twice my age, my roll has been the bitch, the gimp, or whatever you want to call it. My new name is now �Eric can you copy this?�

The metro rides in the morning have been nothing short of entertaining. Monday, I witnessed a fight almost break out when a man accidentally bumped into someone while trying to walk up the escalator. The left side is for passing people, so for all of you fuckers that are standing idle in the middle of the escalator, don�t be alarmed if someone tries to mow you down. This concept gets even more difficult when you arrive at your destination at the end of the day and no one, I repeat, NO ONE �rides� the escalator. It�s a free for all and anyone that stands there like an idiot (i.e. tourists with fanny packs, bad haircuts, and sun visors) are prone to get bumped, shoved, or yelled at. There was this one slickster on the train yesterday who was wearing his Oakley sunglasses the whole train ride (um�we�re underground sir, I don�t think the lights inside the train are that blinding). We arrive at the second to last stop before the train gets to the end of the line (my stop). Once the one or two people have left the train, we start are arrival at the final station. I sit in the car that stops right by the escalator to prevent traffic jams.

Passengers while riding the metro are another story. There was this mother sitting in front of me who chose to burp very loudly during the ride and did this so nonchalantly that I couldn�t help but snicker to myself. (snickers..mmmmm) I was listening to my music at top volume so I can only imagine what that sounded like without �Dive in the Pool� drowning her out. It seemed like she would be good competition for me since after I slam a can of Dr. Pepper I register on the Richter scale. I�m sure there are tales in my old neighborhood in Annapolis of someone keeping a dinosaur in the backyard, as that is what they basically sounded like when ripped outdoors. There are also probably stories of the funk that came from under our deck that one time that Kristin and I decided that we would have a Nair party outside. We basically hosed ourselves down after the 10 min waiting period and all the excess Nair piled up under the deck. Nair is not a fun smelling product and to this day I think it has killed anything that every attempted to seek shelter under the wooden planks.

In addition to actually having to produce work this week, I need to find another apartment since the one I am renting right now has decided to sell all the units as condos. We were so nicely told about two months ago that we either needed to buy the unit we were living in, or get out. For a two-bedroom apartment that is less than 1000 sq. feet, they wanted 300,000 dollars. Sorry people, but I really didn�t feel like getting fucked by the property management company so I�m getting out and have actually found several prospects. I need to be out by the end of the month. Change is good as my apartment hopes will thankfully bring me closer to work and cut down the fucking one-hour commute I deal with to and from hell.

Ugh, other than that, my life is unexciting. I thought I saw a chipmunk in the middle of the grassy area by my building the other day, but upon closer inspection I discovered that it was a rat (cut to Eric running like a woman into the building).

I played tennis yesterday with my roommate. I played like crap, hit my shin with my racquet, and swallowed a bug.

I�ve had some max-strength Excedrin, two diet cokes, and a shot of espresso. This does not bode well for me later on in the day when my system crashes and my face takes on the appearance of a heroine addict (much like my former MD drivers license picture). *******A new word that better catch on, or I'll be pissed. When you're in a pickle, say that you're having a "di-lemur." This is a dilemma that causes you to strike a lemur-like pose...some suggestions for posing are illustrated by the pictures on this diary...thank you.

e.