07 August 2000
I arrived safely back from the homeland on Saturday evening, and with about three times as much stuff as I left with, to boot. My parents seemed to think that the combination of my new apartment and my impending birthday was reason enough to spoil me, at least temporarily. I'm now the proud owner of a small TV/VCR, a down comforter, a stack of european chocolate bars, and a mysterious newspaper-wrapped box marked "do not open until August 13th" that I have thus far miraculously been able to resist opening. My parents weren't the only ones to get in on the act: David burned a stack of CDs for me, and Laura bought me a Brita pitcher.
Laura drove me and my loot up to the Cities and stayed for the weekend. For the most part, we just ate out a lot, rented some movies, and wandered around on Grand Avenue. We had wanted to make plans with Michael (a mutual friend), but he didn't answer his home or cell phone all weekend. I have been instructed by Laura to give him a firm talking-to if he should ever resurface.
After Laura left town this morning, I re-entered the working life. We have a monstrous (20,000+ pieces) and complicated mailing to complete by the end of the month which promises to suck my very soul. I'm really not looking forward to the next 3 1/2 weeks of tedium, but at least when it is over, it is over. I think I can safely say that this is the end of my short-but-tortured fling with the admissions office.
One thing that happened while I was in Waukesha made me a teensy bit happier about my job: I ran into a high school friend when I was at the mall with Jenna one day. We chatted for a little while, and I asked her who else from high school she was still in touch with. She mentioned that one girl in our circle of acquaintences, who happened to be my own private archrival and the subject of much melodramatic angry poetry composed by yours truly, was working at Sears for the summer. "Ha!" said the little voice in my head, "she is stuck in boring Waukesha for the summer, and working retail, no less! Finally, the little snot got what she deserves!" I know, I really am about 12 years old sometimes. I shushed that little voice pretty quickly, but not before it snuck in a bit more gloating.