Another day in the Chronicles of Joe..

Welcome one, welcome all. I'm in a better mood than I was last night.

...

Why is that, Joe?

Because, children, last night I had a HORRIBLE panic attack. What caused this bad boy to surface and fuck me up three ways from Six's pecker? I. don't. know. But Jesus H. Christ, it wasn't pretty. All those paranoid delusions. That feeling like I'm being choked. That half-urge to cry and the other half wanting to snap the neck of the first person who tried to pick a fight with me. Yeah, something like that.

Yeah. That was fun. Now imagine if I had that in public.

But that was last night.

Hey, what's today's secret ingredient?

Today's secret ingredient is...

PIZZA DOUGH!!!!!!!

Ahem.

So last night I had a bad panic attack. Today was SUBSTANTIALLY better. Easily. After dropping Dumb Dumb (Brianne to the rest of you) off at her place of employ. Mother and I went over to Wegman's.

I've been on her case for weeks now to do some major shopping. And today, we did that. Finally, some actual food. Real food. I was toying with the idea of applying. Having no idea where, I ask the guy at the meat counter. He says costumer services. Thus, if this were in my pseudo anime world, a brick would've hit me in the head with the obvious, "Duh!" sound in the background. Merely toying with the idea, mind you. I go, "Fuck it," and so, I put in an application there. A hand written one at that. I'm sick to death of these psych profile tests. I'd rather do it by hand and get the carpal tunnel than do it over the computer and get carpal tunnel. Call me old fashion. But I like looking at my own hand writing.

I also got the latest issue of Wizard. Seeing, how I use that to see how much some of my comics are actually worth. I'm sure there's better things out there than that. But that was the only one readily available within reach. It was the Magneto Cover or the Jessica Alba cover. Tough choice. After throughly loathing the Fantastic Four, I picked the Magneto cover. What?

So anyways, after getting the groceries. Home. I make myself some lunch, finish my lunch, make mother her lunch and fill out the application. I go upstairs and watch Hellboy.

After Hellboy finished, I popped in San Andreas, at that point, if I hadn't, I would've crashed. After obtaining 5 wanted stars and leading the FBI all around the rail ways of San Andreas, blowing them and police helicopters with Heat seeking RPGs, it was about 5:30. Time to pick up Dumb Dumb.

On our way there. But first, drop off Hellboy and Club Dread. Mother forgets to pull into Wegman's so I can drop off my application. After waving it near her face for three minutes while she chatters away with her sister. I swear. So, she turns around and we head over to the Wegman's parking lot. I run in and drop off my application. And out I go. We wait in the sun for 30 friggin minutes while my sister gets out of work. She gets off at 6. But doesn't get to the car until 6:30. Your loyal hero, of course, passes out well before 6:30. Food is a godsend and a curse...

Wait a minute.. now I know what caused that panic attack. I hadn't eaten a damn thing yesterday. And my rigid stance on not eating fast food kind of bent me over and fucked me. A package of Ho ho's and some strawberry milk wasn't going to really cut it.

Now you know.

I'm now hopeful that Wegman's will hire me. So what if I don't have a car to drive myself there. I can always fetch a ride or take the bus. Either way, I'm not totally out of options. Kind of have my hopes up that working 80 hour weeks will keep well away from this flea ridden hell hole. I swear we need to rid our cats. The two that must sneak out all the time. The other two just lounge around and cause no trouble.

Until next time, True Believers.