Garbage. Good music. Period.

I feel a dreaded wave of depression encroaching on my system. I want it to go away.

I'd like to think it would help if I could have some kind of assurance that the proverbial tomorrow will turn out okay. Even such a notion were just an illusion, I'd still take it. But the cold, merciless desert of reality gives me no such assurance.

I attended my first sales meeting today. As far as sales meetings go, I suppose it went well. (Although having not really attended any sales meetings in the past, I can't say I have any basis for comparison.) The contents consisted of briefing people on the latest misc updates, part open forum for discussion of the best selling techniques, and part motivational speech.

Tomorrow, I will go out and watch somebody else do the job for an hour or so. I consider myself lucky that the person to whom I was assigned consistently gets the best numbers every week. If I am to learn this, it's best that I learn it from a true master.

After tomorrow's lesson, my newspaper activities will be concluded until next Friday's sales meeting, at which time I will receieve materials to begin working on my own. Next weekend, I start selling. (But I'll have the same person with me for a few minutes the first day to watch what I do, offer suggestions, and help me get going.)

I'll also be returning to the deli tomorrow afternoon to do my normal shift there. I'll be working every day until Tuesday of next week. After that, I'm off that job for the rest of the week. Every week thereafter, I'll be working in the deli 2-3 days per week until one of the following happens: 1) it is concluded my sales job is working as planned, at which time my deli work will cease for real. 2) the sales job plummets into oblivion, and I'm back to the deli as the primary source of income.

The determination will be made by the end of June at the very latest. In fact, I expect to have a very good idea how things are going after working newspapers for a weekend or two. It will either work for me, or it won't. Simple as that.

After the sales meeting got out shortly before noon, I found myself asking, "Wonderful. Now what do I want to do with the rest of my day?"

After a brief stop at the Laser Fortress, I went back to my bed at mom's place and took a nap. Repaying my debt to the World Bank of Sleep. (From which I now again find myself taking out a line of credit.)

I seriously contemplated going back to Onyx again tonight to drink, dance, and party. I haven't been there in such a f*$king long time. But when it came to actually making the decision, I found myself making the really lame excuse typically uttered by females since the beginning of time. "I don't have anything to wear."

Of course, I knew deep down that this was really a cover for a plethora of other anxieties that have been building within me for many months. But I didn't feel like dealing with them. Not today. Not now.

So after a brief jog (I too would like to get back into the habit of running), I sat back, cooked a pizza, fired up my gamecube, and finished beating Enter The Matrix as Niobe.

The ending was anticlimactic. The final scene basicly amounted to a trailer for Revolutions. Ho hum.

I started another game as Ghost. Though the flow of the game is similar, Ghost does get to take different paths sometimes. In the chase scenes, you get to control Ghost shooting out the car at police while the Niobe AI drives like a crazy maniac. Fun.

Then I watched The Matrix again. Viewing it in light of knowledge revealed later in Reloaded reveals a whole new layer of symbolic consistency. A masterpiece, it is.

Mom said she wanted to watch too, so we watched it in the living room. (She saw it long long ago, but wasn't really impressed. But since everyone has been raving about Reloaded, she said she might want to see it sometime, and wanted to remember the plot to the original.) She fell asleep for most of the second act. When the end credits rolled up, and I was riveted as usual, she was like, "that was kind of corny."

Some people Just Don't Get It. My mom is one of those people.

I have decided that I would like to read Simulacra and Simulation (one of the books the Wachowski's required Keanu Reeves to read as research for his role). Since I recently discovered that I have a Barnes and Noble Gift Card buried in my wallet with a decent amount of credit on it, I set out on a quest to redeem my credit. (It's sad; I don't even remember which occassion or from whom the card originally came from. But it's there nonetheless.)

My mission was unsuccessful. They did not have the book in stock at the local store. So I wandered around the store, didn't find anything that I wanted to purchase in the immediate present, and left to come here. I'll use my gift card later.

Getting tired now. Must sleep. Goodnight.