Awful tasks ahead.
Sunday, 02/26/06 - 5:19 pm.

Mister Computer Technician will be coming until wednesday to check on the computer, and he says it won't be neccesary to take it to his shop. I'm tempted to change the antivirus right now (Blackie recommended me one), but I'll leave Panda so he can see how much it fucks everything up.

Joseph and I went to the movies, to see Walk The Line. I'd been dying to see it (I love the stories of musicians), but I was afraid he'd be bored by it. I picked him up at his house, we had subs for lunch, and we got to the movie theater. I asked him if he wanted to see any other one, that was ok by me, but he said we'd see the one I wanted. I was glad to know he really liked it.

Damn, he's been paying for everything lately. My pocket doesn't complain, but my ego does...a little...ok, it doesn't. But I hate it when people spend money on me. But now Mister I Have a Credit Card says, proudly, that he has a credit card. And in his job, instead of getting a paycheck, he gets his credit card paid. How could one complain?

He's also particularly happy because last night he was talking to a friend. This friend was complaining about how it's always the boyfriend who has to drive the girlfriend, and how it'd rock to have a girlfriend who would pick you up. "I do that", I said. "I know!", he replied. Doesn't take much to make him happy, does it? But I had to point out that my brother in El Paso also had a girlfriend -long time ago- that'd pick him up (both sets of parents still live in denial about them taking separate ways). She'd pick him up and off they'd go to sell gold. I know, what the fuck? But I suspect my brother made a little fortune.

Anyway. My main reason for updating today, though, is to complain. Yay: I have a flu, and I have to wake up at 5:30ish am these next three days, because there's a sexuality workshop, from and by the child abuse project (Mr. Basket will be in charge, since he's quite the sexologist), directed to the staff that works at the children's shelter we got some interviews from. Blah, I say.

It's a stupid job, the one I have; I go there, set up tables, the coffee machine, write on name tags, goodbye. Come back at noon to undo what you did, and wash the coffee machine as well (ARGH!). Last time the lady in charge actually locked us out of the room, so we were strictly "logistic". I heard this time she'd like me to join (as it's gonna be just me this time), but I'm a busy person and I have to finish typing up the interviews' answers...because SHE is really, really slow, and at her pace we'll be finishing next december.

Now I feel sicker. I'm too lazy and too sick to go. I hope she notices (that I'm sick, not lazy) and spares me the agony of going again on tuesday and wednesday. And on thursday, it's time to pick-up some papers, as this semester is about to start. Jesus, no! I just got sick!

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