Braids in the time-space continuum

Had Latin today. I finished about a third of my translation assignment, so needless to say I was sweating my balls off when we were going around the room, but it turned out all right. Tonight there are two basketball games I'm excited to see (so excited, mind you, that I had a dream about fantasy basketball last night. What a cock, right?) AND I got confirmation on the job interview from last week. So let me tell you about the job:

I'm going fully off what I was told in the throes of Nyquil, mind you, with NO fortification of Wikipedia or anything like that, so some of this information may be a bit skewed. But in 2004, a bookstore in New York called the Gotham Book Mart went under. It was described to me as a sort of City Lights of New York for the American modernists. They had a lot of self-published chapbooks and other items of interest (some of which Penn will be working into their rare book room. Fingers crossed for some Tennessee Williams signed copies!), which, if you don't know, is RIGHT up my alley. This is my favorite area of literature, really the only area I consider myself [moderately] well-versed in besides Classics, and not only will it be making me a fat ten dollars an hour for fifteen to twenty hours a week (once again, the ball's in my court for that decision) but it will look good on my resume for next year, AND I'll be spending a lot of time reading bull shit that I would like to be reading anyhow. Sure, I'll run into quite a few authors, no doubt the great majority of them, who history and myself do not give a fuck about. I'm sure, as a friend of mine who worked here last year, that I will encounter lots of self-published shit that I read and think, "Damn, I could have written this in fourth grade" (her words, not mine). But it can't be any worse than undergraduate creative writing, right? At least these fuckers had the balls to put their shit together in some sort of book format.

So although I have zero dollars to my name as of now, I have about a hundred dollars left on my credit card before I max it out, and word through the grape vine is that the remainder of my loans will be here soon. So not only will I have a steady source of cash flow from this job, but also a fat chunk of money from the loans. What can I say? Things are looking good right now.

Oh, and my roommate's car will not take him back to North Dakota. It is not capable. So he's marooned! Fuck yeah!

I have to be at the pet store to buy my cat some more food. Let us all now have twists of fate that force us to do what we wanted to do all along but external circumstances prevented us from doing so. Ciao! (I am feeling  awfully KAWAIIIIII right now)