Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now

"I was looking for a job and then I found a job/and heaven knows I'm miserable now."
--The Smiths

I wanted to keep my widdle blog free of the usual online journal minutia (I ate a peanut butter sandwich today, I missed the train this morning, my mom is a bitch, etc.). However, I've been reading Mimi Smartypants, and I realize that it's ok to whine if you do it in an interesting manner (whether this counts is arguable).

I slept in this morning because it was supposed to be beautiful and sunny, which means that my car is likely to start (long story). I had a leisurely shower, ate my warmed-up omelette leftovers from brunch yesterday, and strolled out the door at around 8:15. It's a maximum of 45 minutes to work when I drive, so I wasn't worried about being late. That is, until I forgot where I had parked the last time I drove my car. I wandered around the neighborhood, looking in all the usual hiding places, but with no luck. You see, I had driven home late the last time I drove it, which meant that parking pickings were slim, and I ended up parking several blocks away. When I finally found the car, it was 8:35.

It didn't start. My entire worldview was shaken. Since my car started acting up, bright and sunny = car starts. Invariably. Well not today. Was it because the bright sunshine had not yet warmed its delicate hood? Was it finally dead? Who knows. I sat there trying to start it until 9, then I had to run to the train.

I started reading Faulkner's As I Lay Dying a few nights ago. You cannot read Faulkner on the train. At least, I can't. He requires a level of concentration that I cannot give him when surrounded by the myriad distractions on the train. I rode without reading, staring out the window.

I got off the train downtown and waited for the bus. When it came, I climbed aboard at the head of a long line of people. Turns out my transit card was expired. I didn't notice when I got on the train because all of the turnstiles at my stop were broken, so they were just letting everybody walk through. I had to dig through my wallet and pockets looking for enough money to pay the fare. I had no change, and I had only a single dollar bill. The people waiting behind me started shoving, and the driver sighed and told me to "sit [my] ass down." I complied.

At work, when I finally got there, the guy who is "training" me was waiting for me. He gave me 16 articles that needed to be cleaned up (a process combining repetitive actions with utter boredom). I hate cleaning up manuscripts. I've been doing it since I started. I want training. I get clean-up. Maybe tomorrow will be better.