You know what?

I'm happy.

I'm scheduled 40+ hours at work next week, I have four Kelly Clarkson music videos that I love, I kinda sort of have someone in a strictly nonconventional no-no can't explain kind of way who just sent me an email to remind me that my smile makes him feel good inside and that he's thinking of me.

Yes. I am happy.

Also? It's spitting snow outside, which adds to the squeeage.

Jesus christ!

Apparently, I'm on a self-destruct mission here. I was just about to get online and start squeeing about some more good news, when all of a sudden, simultaneously, the bookshelf beside my desk toppled over on top of me, smashing the mirror out of the endtable (but it didn't break!), breaking the lamp, and uprooting the radiator (it's okay, I fixed it); while at the same time the shower curtain in the bathroom fell off the brackets and somehow pulled down the shelf in *there* with all of my make-up and facial stuff, colognes and whatnot. Luckily nothing broke, accept an *old* bottle of Old Spice that I never wear anyway.

WTF?

Oh right

The squeeage. Before I was so rudely nearly concussed.

I just got my schedule from both catering companies up until the 15th of December, and I'll be working 10/14 days. I've closely estimated (taking into account short shifts, long shifts, and taxes) that I'll make enough money over the next two weeks to pay two months of Rent, pay off a nice chunk of the credit card, *and* buy gifts for everyone.

*AND*

My mom called to tell me that there was a fluke with the insurance company. See, they sent a letter saying I was no longer eligable for health insurance through my dad's union, so I've been without it for a couple months now. Apparently there was a mix-up, and I *do* have insurance. Which means I can go to the dentist! And next month when it's HIV testing time again, I won't have to pay out of pocket. Yay!

So...go back to your lives. heh.