bitter butter sure ain't better So the Hubster and I went to see Up today which is both delightful and heart-wrenching, and I bawled my eyes out. So there�s your warning. And is usually happens when I bawl my eyes out for a couple of hours, I am now grumpy, I have a headache, and I just really want to crawl into a soft cool dark place and be a mushroom for several days. Instead, I�ve been playing Pogo games and sending out resume after resume in a desperate attempt for employment (do I have availability 24/7?? Shure �nuff! Do I want to be a freakin� telemarketer? Um . . . no. I have not yet reached that level of shamelessness.). This is, of course, not helping my mood, and I want to put in big letters on my cover letter: Yes, I have a Master�s Degree. Yes, I�m applying for this entry level position and I know I�m overeducated, you smug little bastard (or bitch, as the case may be). If you actually take a look at my Master�s degree, you�ll notice it�s in Fine Arts, which essentially qualifies me to say, �You want fries with that?� Gah. I�m really in a rotten mood. I think I will go and lie down for a while. I need to stay away from the knitting needles at the moment because I may go stab someone with them. Tah!
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