It's 10:30 and I should've been home at least an hour ago.

Fucking new people. They have a new kid at the press and he's taking so fucking long to do things that should only take a few minutes!

So why must I have to suffer for other dumb ass people. Fuck me already.

I have a headache, no doubt because of how badly I've been eating the past few days.

Not to mention my screwed up parents.

But this is just me playing the victim, the 'poor Jenny' as my mom would say.

I dread to think that this fucking KID could be working TOMORROW as I work TOMORROW's night desk.

I won't get home till 11 or later now, I can't even begin to think of what'll happen tomorrow, I'll get home at 1 a.m.

*Sigh* *Major sigh*

I'm sending in a resume tomorrow to my old boss at the paper for a General Assignment Reporter, I don't think I'll even get an interview, but I'll have to see. I can recall trying for that same job there and the editor laughing at me. How as I to know that they were a larger paper and experience was needed.

I was young, naive ... well I still am, but still. I guess maybe I'm being that now, I've a year and some odd months of experience, my other friend at the paper worked 18 months before finding his second job. I've worked, um ... 15 months here?

That sounds like a lot, but 3 more months means I'll be where he was.

So, I thought what the hell, I like to paginate, yes, but I'd rather get my foot in the door there and then work my way around in the company.

But again, I'm sure they will sigh and then let out laugh 'Damn doesn't this girl give up?' I can see my resumes are pasted up in the breakroom, they are trying to see how many I send, and already, the back wall is lined and half of the right wall, and what's so bad is there are little corrections of my bad grammar and little remarks of how I probably should give up, or just be admired for my unwaivering relentless nature.

Hm.

�

pet ramps