My blog hates me . . .

. . . because I don't ever write in it and that makes it sad.

But as I'm currently dealing with this night's episode of "I'm Incapable of Sleeping," I thought I'd show my lonely little blog some love:

I'm graduating next May, and the job-panic is dramatically on the rise. Not surprisingly, job-panic is one of the main symptoms of my insomnia.

I'm considering career options I've never taken seriously before.

But more on this tomorrow, I'm starting to write in circles and that's annoying to everyone.

If only I could say it . . .

As it is summer, and I am yet again stuck with *two* jobs, I find myself wanting to NOT work and instead goof off. Blogging is a pretty good time-consuming remedy, and I can even convince myself that I am still doing something relevant to my career aims. English majors are expected to write, right?

So as I sit here, trying to decide whether an apology is necessary for that last pun, I am thinking about my job. Oh, that's right I have two. Well, only one of them pays so I'm gonna focus on that one:

Since last September, I've worked at an Old Navy part-time. Originally, I liked the job, and I still do for the most part. I have a crazy schedule, and we have enough people working there that I can take off pretty much whenever I need to. Now, outside of my actual job duties, I've observed quite a bit of human behavior. I often find myself thinking responses to customers that I could never say aloud, but have no qualms about posting here:

• A prayer: "Dear God, please bless this woman with the realization that yes, she should get a larger size. Amen."

• "We do not keep things 'in the back,' hiding that size small royal blue tank top that you want on purpose, as you are insinuating. We have no 'evil plans' or personal grudge against you, so get over yourself. Someone else bought it and WE DON'T HAVE ANY MORE."

• "There is a lock on the bathroom door. Guess what it does? As a matter of fact, it WILL keep you from bitching me out about walking in there while you're doing your thing."

• "Please do not breast-feed your infant in the fitting room. I can hear the suckling, and in five minutes when your precious darling spits up, I will have to clean your breast milk off the floor."

• "Writing graffiti on the bathroom walls of an Old Navy is just weird . . . you came here voluntarily to shop, and I don't see what writing 'Old Gayvy' on a wall is really going to accomplish. I'll just end up having to clean it off, anyway."

• "Your husband/wife is a jerk/bitch, you can do bett