lunch was: a surprisingly delish capellini pomodoro at olive garden. paired with the usual breadstick, stolen croutons from other people’s salad, and a sprite (yieah, that’s right, i’m classy). the boy’s shrimp pasta thingie wunn’t too bad either.
a day in which the usual quota for “why yes i’m too lazy to figure shit out before calling/no it’s never my fault it’s always your fault/just do this for me because i don’t want to think/everyone on the planet does things my way so you have to customize everything for me for free” type of calls exploded into the stratosphere. compounded by the fact that they felt it imperative to talk to me and me only — even for something as mundane as deleting a p/o. dammit you lazy asses. there’s only so much of me to go around. i can’t deliver your shit within five minutes if someone is demanding my attention every other minute. everyone needs to have this or that done since yesterday. tough cookies. if and when i deliver miracles, it won’t be for rude, insistent jerks. this is ludicrous.