The End of Days

So...hi.

I've kind of fallen off the blogwagon as of late, but I'm back (only to return to obscurity). What a past few days though. Michael Jackson is dead. Not to be forgotten: Ed McMahon, Billy Mays, and Farah Fawcett, who died of anal cancer. Which is exactly what you think it is. And caused by exactly what you think.

A Voldemort of cancers, truly a "Cancer That Shall Not Be Named."

Today will be the final post in the New Job Blogumentary series. As the 30th of June concludes, so does my first month of my new job. I can honestly say that I enjoy my new job. Do I wake up every morning with a smile on my face, excited for another day at the office? Hell no, I arise late, disgruntled, and contemplative between making breakfast or gambling on a stale donut in the breakroom.

What have I accomplished in the past month? Well my new gig ties me down with more responsibility, which is "good" in one of those ways where you don't really like it while it's happening but the results speak for themselves. Kind of like running. Except I hate running.

While I have more responsibility, I have more freedom. No one babies me and I come into work at 9:45 usually, which is a dream because I love to sleep in. I've made plenty of mistakes though but more times than not, admitting your faults is the first step towards growth. Not ego inflation.

My friend-seduction of Kumar has been successful. I am adopting one of his two cats after his Craigslist ads panned no hits. He showed me both cats and I claimed the cuter one (this is a chilling representation of the power of beauty, it pays to be cute). I'm thankful that the cats are free, but more thankful for another peer. And also thankful for his shitty description of the cat that made Craigslist a dead end. Because now I anticipate the day I become father of Rumsfeld Krishnan Mukhopadyay Park, a "medium-haired normal cat." My 낭만 고양이.

*head banging*

Mega points to you if you got that reference. It means we can be friends too.