Some general free-floating irritation

I’ve been pretty annoyed today, it’s more of a general irritation versus real anger. Here’s what today has been so far:

I went to bed at like 4am after bingeing on about 100 pages of “Mona Lisa Overdrive”. When I first read that book I knew it was awesome, but since I hadn’t read “Count Zero” first there were parts of it that I just didn’t get (which I of course attributed to Gibson’s knack for leaving out details for you to figure out later).. That book has become an obsession, I will probably finish it tonight.

At 9ish, the doorbell rang, and I knew it was the UPS guy, because that’s the time he usually comes. I was expecting something, but it wouldn’t have been here today so I decided to let someone else get it.. Well, the doorbell kept ringing and my stupid-ass roommates of course didn’t bother to get up, so I have to get clothes on and run down the stairs to get the door FOR THE SECOND DAY IN A ROW. I get there and once again the package isn’t for me, it’s for rando-roommate, FOR THE SECOND DAY IN A ROW. That fucker has begun to really piss me off, fortunately I only have to deal with him for another month or so… Hopefully he will move out before then, actually.

I went back to bed and while I was sleeping Mr. USPS delivered “Idoru” and “All Tomorrow’s Parties”, which given the imminence of the end of “Mona Lisa Overdrive” is timed pretty well. Rory and I head over to the Mass Ave Restaurant for breakfast, which was pretty good (french toast and bacon, if you are interested).

I spend a few hours searching for jobs, to no avail. Why the hell does searching for “Software Engineer” on HotJobs return a “Word Processor” position?

I found a new reason to hate the term “blog’’: It is already being mutated into “BLOG’’ as if it was some kind of acronym. I find the shouting of the word to make it 8 times more irritating (and it was pretty awful to begin with).

Rando-roommate has been doing laundry for what seems like 300 days now. Every time he moves stuff between machines he leaves the fucking laundry door open, so we are all subject to the incessant din of the laundry room. Every time he moves stuff, I have to walk down behind him to close the fucking doors because he is too inconsiderate to do it himself. Did I mention I am looking forward to his departure?

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