"We have a major problem here, guys."

What an absolute motherfucking nightmare of a day. Everything seems to be going four different kinds of bad with a major fuck up at work leading the charge. It may not be my fault, but I can't help but think that the bosses think that I am guilty by association.

Good god.

Let us cast our gazes upon last night's movie night at the pub (yes, I went to the pub AGAIN). I somehow sat through four hours of Star Wars (Episodes IV and V), but I was there for the beer, the bread pudding, and the camaraderie after all . . . and I was there to hang with Cat the bartender. Shortly after I arrived with Jane, Cat slinked up to my barstool and asked when I was going to invite her over for the margaritas and gourmet cooking that I mentioned the last time I was there. Now if only Holly were this forward. I smiled back at Cat and promised her that it should happen soon while the weather is nice. Later Jane said that Cat flirts with me a lot more than Holly does. Harrumph. At least I left the pub that night with Cat's email address. Hurrah! Should I mention that I'm supposed to go out with Holly tonight to an art show. Oh yes. I am bad.

Also I should mention that I have a job interview on Friday with another company who found my portfolio on Comm Arts. The wheels of change are turning.