my mind desires distraction

I've created a laundry list of things to keep my mind at bay of the insanity pool. Stupid, ugly winter. You can bite my ice-cream loving ass, alright?

So the boss of the internet radio station has taken a step back from running things for awhile. Mainly because he wants to see how we all fair in doing more than our share to excel in a media source such as this. It's fun, I'm all about the challenge, I'm down for the cause. So as I was at yet another Al & The Black Cats show at the Sazerac Lounge (hit a soft spot, truth be told.), I was jotting down notes in my cell phone, my only available writing source.
I've been erasing those notes, one by one, after promptly scrolling past the notes that I wrote in my phone to make me smile now and then. It's making me feel rather accomplished for the time being, until I get school situations all situated and such.

With the clock ticking down on my departure to St. Louis to get my new "child" (a 2004?! LaSabre... the Queen of all Grammy cars, I'm excited.), I have to get all that technical riffraff underway before I hop on that train. I'm a grownup, I can do it, get all my ducks in a row. I finally cleaned out my wallet of random uneeded papers today and already felt cleaner.

A lesson learned: optimism is key when you're forced to inhale ammonia on an eight-hour work shift.

What, you say?
Yeah, here's a scientific explanation. We have this fun, Dippin' Dots-type of stuff that is our icemelt. When used on the sidewalks that people walk on with their snow caked shoes, to where they walk inside and wipe their feet of the mess on moldy rugs, what do you get? you get a homemade ammonia. Enough to make you feel sea sick and give you second thoughts as to whether or not you did dye your hair that week. What sucks even more is that nothing can be done, because the store vaccuum is broken.
I never smelt what customers were talking about when they said they smelled the stench, so I just assumed they meant our floors. I didn't smell it at all until work the other night, for the first time. Last night I worked and it made me sick to my stomach and weak-kneed.
We call the boss to ask what we should do in such a situation; he tells us to sweep the water off of the mats (uh...?!?!), or to drape them over the trashcans outside (so what, they can freeze since it is January after all and we get lawsuits handed to us for slip-and-falls?). We then proceed to tell him of our dizzy dimeanors and he says, "Well I don't know what to tell you."
Which then, translates to me, that he doesn't give two shits about the health and well-being of his employees or customers.
The company and my boss can kiss my ice-cream loving ass along with winter while I go look for a new job (or crawl like a slug to my video store job, regrettfully so.)

On a melancholy state, I had dreams that didn't help the other night. *insert a sad face here*