The Unemployment Office - a hideous dialogue? not compared to my mortgage company...

CLICK! CRACKLE! SPURTLE! vibrates my cell phone.

FINALLY!

"Hallo!" I spit into the receiver of my cell phone.

Yes, I have been ON HOLD for FORTY-FIVE FUCKING MINUTES with the Unemployment People Who Unfortunately Smirk Silently (UPWUSS) BUT I CAN HEAR IT OVER THE PHONE!

Yes, I CAN! I KNOW that they are silently smugly conspicuously laughing at me, an Unemployed Accountant At Large.

"Yes, Mrs. XXX, how may I help you?" A solidly bass voice erupts coyly. I feel him smirking, this supercilious UPWUSS.

It pisses me off, quite frankly.

"I'd like to talk to someone about getting my unemployment again..."

"YESH? How may I help you?" He says, grinning in that awful tone again.

"Can you help me please?" I say, loudly but nicely. I quell my pissyness tone as much as possible.

"Well, that depends, Mrs. XXX, 'Can' denotes am I able to. Did you mean to use the word 'May' instead? Of course I may help you, if that is -"

"YES, Puhleaze, MAY you help me?" AND CAN YOU SHOVE THIS FUCKING TELEPHONE RECEIVER UP YOUR TIDY-WHITE UPWUSS-Y ASS??? CAN YOU??? HUH, HUH, HUH???

Jesus. How much more of this CAN I take?

I just want my unemployment back after losing my shitty two week temp job, for crying out loud!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

More to come later regarding being on hold with my mortgage company and asking to speak to someone who has not swapped their soul to satan.

Erotique Veronique Magique

Vell vell vell my darlings, I have actually gotten a contract job in my field! So it appears that my career is not dead after all. Perhaps it is Undead? Perhaps it has Risen from its sordid Black-Death Crypt of the Universe, sucking the life out of its dastardly demise? At Midnight perhaps, when things go bump, when things change for the better, or is it worse?

HA HA HAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Vell vell vell mah dahlingks!" Veronique lit her cigar and pushed up her Victoria Secret Platypus Push-Me-Pull-You Bra and smiled at me.

"Got Torque?" I said, mocking her suddenly famous (or is it infamous) commercial?

"Nooooo, no, nooooooo!" Veronique exotique and erotique put her lips together and blew out her cigar, the blue curls festering into feathers and then nothingness. Just like magique. Mystique, too.

In addition to finding gainful employment, albeit temporarily, I have also received my first rejection letter from a literary agent. I submitted a query letter via email to Nelson Agency. The story query I sent was the one on this blog about the Aliens and the girl bored-to-snot in CubicleLand. The one who has the Massive Intense Crush on a VIP hottie at work. There's a witch involved as well.

No worries. A rejection email only means that I am THIS MUCH CLOSER TO MY DREAM OF BECOMING PUBLISHED. Hurrah! I am still researching erotica and whether I should attempt to write it or not. I think I should definitely write comedy. I made the writing group two Wednesdays ago laugh their heinies off. Okay I KNOW I am NOT supposed to end a sentence with a preposition:

I made the writing group two Wednesdays ago laught their heinies off, Bitch! Ha ha ha ha ha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!