Stewing Quietly

I've recently acquired a three month long temping gig. If I had any work at all to keep me busy it would be a pretty sweet gig. I'm under the impression that all of my bosses/people in my department are aware of how little I have to do (read: nothing). It would be overkill for me to be constantly emailing them to tell them that I have nothing to do and to please give me more work. I tell them when I see them in the hall or they come by to give me a 10 minute long project! But, apparently, they don't need me. And are perfectly fine with paying me 15 dollars an hour to use their internet and drink their apple juice and ginger ale.

Which are telling beverages for me to be drinking. Full of high fructose corn syrup, but lacking anything adult--hopps, tannins, caffeine. Moving to the big city has not made me more grown up. Instead it has made me a poser grown-up.

These
beautiful illustrations I found on Etsy



that I'm currently fawning over

and with which I cannot wait to decorate my new apartment, are merely symptomatic of a greater Peter Pan syndrome.

But, seriously, I would be unable to stop myself from impulse buying these right now if there wasn't a couch stuck in my brand new room. Which leads us to another problem of mine, semi-related to my truth telling dilemma. I hate asking people for things. It's a really bad problem. It's why I end up with overdraft charges on my bank account. And is definitely why our couch is stuck in my room-- I don't have the juevos to ask the boys upstairs to carry it out again (cause I made them bring it in there in the first place) and possibly up and down several sets of stairs. Which is why I'm sleeping in the same room as a cat hair-covered sofa. And, yes, I am allergic.