the most difficult thing i've done is count change for a twenty when selling stamps to a man

Being a receptionist is an excellent job. In the past 4 hours, I have answered the phone 6 times, eaten one 50 cent pretzel, drank one item each of a) coffee, b) juice, and c) water (compliments of the chiller), and read every news story that big brother couldn't filter (ps i discovered a vodka with a rattlesnake in it, as well as other assorted bottle-sized animals in liquors that you can probably mail order from somewhere strange, to the east).
Yes, the temp agency finally came through. I'm sitting behind a desk, in a dress shirt, forwarding calls, watching security cameras. I've been told they'll even pay me. Fingers crossed that this will last more than the proposed 'one' day.
The world has been unremarkably strange and, perhaps, slightly sad. You just get used to it after a while. I have been dealing with alot of thoughts in my head that for some reason want me to 'come to terms' with aspects of my living and, by association, life. This is distressing because I have no intention of compliance. At this point I wanted to write that i like decisions to make themselves without my input, but realized that this has happened before and I overturned the results. Perhaps that was a poor choice. Regardless. I dont know if i'm putting off the inevitable or working towards a goal.
In other news, I have begun my new map project on the floor, and I am pleased, or at least satiated by the results thus far. I will be posting some pictures of it somewhere, some time soon. I sent out some proposals for a project/installation I would like to do, maybe it went into the wrong ears, or maybe it will be mulled around some more. It involves paintchips, unsurprisingly, if you're interested. Doing artwork out of school is strange, being completely self-motivated and working at whatever kind of pace you could want. I at least have alot of things I want to get done, so that is nice. I would hate to be out of ideas. I don't know if I keep doing the work because I have to, becauss it's fun to, or because I want to be able to tell people I didn't go to art school for entirely no reason. You do the things you gotta do and the things you have to do and look for some kind of payout, maybe follow that around for awhile. Being an adult is hard work, and involves alot of debts. Or so the legend goes.
Speaking of legends, have you heard about the one that took place in Key West starring party boats, Dave, Adam, and a sea-hat? Cause if you missed it, it's time for another telling. That doesn't really imply what I wanted it to. Um - we're going back to Key west, as well as other various points southerly. No word yet on how anyone can afford it, but i've heard that outlet bread plays a vital role. I am excited to be in the sun and expose my pale, disturbing flesh to it and also to women who are most likely not interested in the seeing of it. Also, Siesta Key (i would link to information about it, if only I could know how)!
I'm terrified of a life settling in around me, and getting caught for years and years doing what I didn't want to but forgot to care enough to change. Adventures, satisfaction, money-making schemes, living out of a suitcase, or for that matter, a box - which lifestyle is right for me?? I constantly go over escape plans for all of the things I am doing, and it is very disconcerting when some of them are not feasible, or at least not practical. Contracts, Schmontracts. I have to remember not to sign those in the future.