07/13/10

Have I mentioned lately that the real world is tough? I'm too soft for it. I have blubber around the mid-section and scrawny arms. I want to be a baby bird! I don't need soaring wings; just a little nesting. So basically, yours truly experienced the cruel cruel ways of the corporate microcosm. I was swallowed up and spit out by the big, bad bugs (aka, valley girl with blonde hair). Tired of me talking in an anology? Let's get to the dirt. I am no longer employed with Income Property Management. According to my manager, it's good and bad news! Except, I'm still unsure what the good news is. Last week, I was informed that a replacement had been found for my position. Yay!!???? Basically, a girlfriend of someone at the company came in looking for a job and left with mine. The receptionist position was only unofficially mine, and now it's hers. I've been kicked to the curb. After my unsavory reaction, my manager offered me a few hours this week to help bring in a little income while I job search. Since the shock has worn off, I'm actually kind of excited! I've applied for some really cool jobs, and honestly, who wants to do mail for six hours a day? Really, that's all IPM had to offer me: repitious mail sorting and dirty dishes. Not for me!

I finally decided to part ways with my current roommates. I just hate Bentley (the Beagle). He urinated on my new books! I can take destroying my boots and eating my cat's food, but desecrating my books is too far! Those are sacred. So, I am still on the quest for the perfect house to move to. The last few I've check out have been duds. For example: In one of the houses, my bedroom had slanted ceilings, no closet and my favorite part, had "f*** the pigs" punk rock, paint job. Uh, not so much. I didn't even complete the tour of the rest of the home. But, I'm hoping tonight my living situation will get squared away. Details if it pans out! A little spoiler: 33 year old Amy, two fat cats, and NO BOYS (sorry guys, I just miss tabloids and chick flicks). Keep your fingers crossed!

While visiting the Tillamook Chese Factory, Ben and I picked up a country musicians puzzle! Basically, every day we age. Are we somewhere around 65 and retired? In any case, we are puzzle machines!