I think you have a song left to play.

I CAN'T BLOG ABOUT MY JOB. But I can blog about how much I hate that static cling has become something I have to deal with on a regular basis. Sure, it's annoying, but just the fact I must wear things to work that are of a nylon-blend material drives me batty. Absolutely batty.

Marky blogged about how annoying that "What are you going to do now?" question is. I really can't help but agree. I knew the job I took would be temporary, but comments from my big boss has sent the office a'flutter with everyone filling out job applications as quickly as they can type. One of the ladies I work with tells me that I'm so young and the world is limitless and I can do whatever I want to. Is it so wrong of me to want to just sort of drift and see where I end up? Maybe my fear of the future makes me completely reluctant to talk about it. I'm trying to finalize some kind of plan for where I'll end up when this gig is done, but I just DON'T WANNA. I think part of it is financial fear. I'm still new to financial independance and the thought of taking a job that can't pay my bills or living without a job while looking for a good one for a while are equally scary.

I think this frontier in life is the biggest, scariest thing I've faced in a long time. And I really do resent it. Get me back into school so I can prolong adulthood as long as possible, thanks.

I'll be north this weekend. Friday night, Marky and me are staying in Raton, where I'm hoping to indulge in the grand Raton rite of passage known as getting plastered on Coors Light at Schwedes Saloon. Small town bars are the scariest places in America, mostly because it's somewhat likely you'll end drinking with the last person you ever wanted to drink with, like your fifth grade teacher or the high school quarterback. It is a DAMN shame I can't make this trip next weekend. Oh. Rodeo.

Saturday night, we'll head to Springs for the Mad Caddies and stay the night there and come back home on Sunday. Somewhere in there, we're going to Urban Outfitters in south Denver, where I am determined to find a maxi dress that won't make me look like Kathy Zimmer.

If you plan on buying fireworks this year, go to the tent at the Eubank Walmart. All proceeds from that tent go to recording a Made In Bangladesh album. If you want things that make bigger bang, there's also a tent in Las Lunes, but I'm not sure where yet. I just know my boyfriend will be spending the next two weeks of his life sleeping there. I told me he wants to just let himself go the entire time he's down there. His goal is to look like the bulk of the people he'll be selling fireworks to. His hair is already way too long, and he won't be trimming his beard or showering on a regular basis. He really only has one decent pair of jeans, so he'll probably wear them the whole time, too. I think it's adorable. This is why I win girlfriend awards.