Waaaaaaaaaaaaa!

On my lunch break, and I feel like a kid LOCKED OUT of a candy store. My Macbook Pro delivered itself ONE DAY EARLY, and it arrived this morning. I'm stuck at work today fidgeting and longing for the beautiful reunion we shall have sometime shortly after five o'clock.

Better yet, I am forced to read a book titled, "Hacking Myspace: Customizations and Mods to Make Myspace Your Space," while day-dreaming of my technical rendezvous that awaits me. Blah. This book is for slutty 15 year-olds who want to vamp up their MyWaste pages to engage sexual perpetrators.

I must come up with a name for my new Mac. I kind of feel bad for my old Toshiba. I think I was neglectful. It never got a name.

Great, now I feel guilty.

There's time to change my behavior, though. It's not like I'm throwing it away.

This is torture. Yesterday, I had to listen to an Avril Lavigne sound-alike who, honestly, inspired me to go jump off of the nearest bridge and plummet to the sound of not-her-music. Wait--I'm not sure I'd generously call it music. It was more like whining. With bad lyrics.

"Waaaa, waaaaa, I really love you. Waaaaaa, waaa, waaaaaaa, did I tell you how much I really love you? Waaaa, waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa..."

Oh fuck, just shoot me in the head.

I am so impatient with bad music that I rarely have to sit and listen to it. For almost an hour, I had to hear that shit in a small, silent office. You know--absolutely no distraction noises. Just her and her guitar, and the same whiny, awful tone. Waaa, waaa, love. I've never felt so nervous and depressed at the same time in my life, which I felt was a dangerous emotional combination. I was either suicidal or homicidal. She's lucky she wasn't in the room.

I exploded at my boss after trying to deal with the noise for nearly an hour. Thank GOD he understands my distaste for bad music.