Send out resumes. Wait for response. No response. Fight off complete desolation. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. And die (Okay, not that last part. Also, the words in parentheses don't count toward the 17 words. And no offense, but if you needed me to explain that then you probably, no doubt unknowingly, need to die more than I do).

(Just kidding.)

(Sort of.)

An hour ago I tried faxing my resume. My fax machine sent out its beacon of beeps, but there was no response from the other side. Normally I wouldn't care but I spent a lot of time earlier fussing over whether to include my fax cover sheet in the overall number of pages sent. Generally I don't include it, but I've received so very little response this summer that I've begun to wonder if the people in HR separate the faxes based on the information on the cover sheet and here mine says there are 2 pages when, depending on how you count, there might be 3. As a result I've created an extra twenty minutes of work for whoever has to re-sort the faxes due to my miscount. I imagine when this person is finished he or she bitterly rips my resume into itty bitty pieces and spends the lunch hour sprinkling the remains into the garbage to teach me a lesson.

Although, personally I'd be glad to spend twenty minutes sorting through faxes; in fact, that could be my job: Fax Girl. And I promise you, I'd be an amazing Fax Girl.

In other news, I am so incredibly bored.

On Monday I wrote my last final exam for the year. Now that it's all over I'd like to thank the people at Coca Cola for making a beverage that has just enough oomph so that I don't fall asleep, but not enough so that I can't fall asleep when I'm ready (On the other hand, the last time I drank coffee before going to bed I 'dreamt' that I was an astronaut on her way to the moon). I'd also like the thank the creators of Spider Solitaire, the game that on more than one occasion talked me back from the proverbial edge when I didn't think I could memorize another bold lettered definition.

All in all I think I had a good showing, and if it so happens that I end up doing badly I have decided to drop out of school and dedicate the rest of my life to destroying whoever marked my exam.

Happy Cinco de Mayo!

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