Turbidity. Literally and metaphorically.

You know what really gets on my tits? MySpace. That friggin' site never works properly. I'm tired of having anything to do with it. Sigh. Another first world problem.

We have turbid water. Vancouver. You probably heard about it on the news. Cause when the water goes bad, that gives us all a little peek into the future. IGA ran out of bottled water today and told everyone there was a shipment coming at 9pm. Remember how people trampled each other for Cabbage Patch dolls? You could see the madness in their eyes. Two cases per person only! And the people wanted it, bad. You can't brush your teeth in mud, it seems. I kind of like saying turbidity. You have to take your time. You can't say it fast, mush it up, rush it. Which makes it really feel like what it is. Onomatopoeia for the masses.

Job seeking looking up. Have an assessment at a temp agency on Monday. Two hours of testing and interviews to determine what I'm appropriate for. Apparently they have plenty of light industrial work, which I'd rather do than reception. The more I have to deal with objects and the less with people, the happier I will be. Hoping they can put me to work right away cause....

My agency called yesterday to inform me they had fired my agent. Of course they did! Am marching down there tomorrow to make sure they put me on someone else's roster, cause this girl wants work and wants it bad. Course, christmas is coming and that's a sloooooow time in the industry, but, hell, I'll take work in January.

I'm going to try to get to sleep before midnight tonight. Pretty impressive, eh?

Don't drink the water.


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