Sixty percent of the time, it works every time.

Not as gassy as yesterday, I'm happy to report. Now it's just your general bloating of the female variety. Not so fun but utterly predictable. One of these days I'll have the body I dream of. Wonder if I have to go off the meds to lose weight. Hhhm. Insanity . . or thinness . . . it's a tough call. Regardless, I don't like this portliness.

Work hasn't been quite as hellish thus far this week and I'm due to have a 2nd interview at some admin job thurs or friday which will pay me significantly more money, if they offer it to me. And by significant . .I mean more than 10k. Twould be glorious. And the work can't be any worse than what I'm doing now. I will have to dress better but I can walk to work. If I get hired. If. If. If.

Three hours and fifteen minutes until I can get out of here today. There's work to be done but so much of it depends on someone else doing the next step before I can put something to bed. And some people I work with are, quite frankly, lazy. I support more than seven people and you are your own entity and yet you can't send a fucking email to your boss? what the hell?

Haven't talked to my dad in a while. Perhaps I'll call him after work before having a drink. yes, that sounds like a good idea.