out with the old...

oh spring cleaning... this evening, your humble author put together three bags of donate-ables. do i really need sixteen different pair of khaki pants? me thinks not. do the homeless? perhaps. i don't know about the 'i might not be mister right, but i am mister big dick' or the 'free martha! it's a good thing!' tee shirts, but what the hell. when it's time to change, it's time to rearrange, thank you peter brady.

and pleats are so... 2001.

i've also put into 'storage' (neatly tucked away behind crap i'm never moving again) some other crap. donated house goods, for, ladies and gentlemen, i live in a box and i don't need thirty mismatched wine glasses. i don't need three tote bags or dress shirts from my extra-large phase. and i've kept them this long why?

the cubefarm is a disaster as of late. newish bosslady is justifying her job, and bigbossman is mentally checked out. neither of them fuck with me, lovely, and i got the *wink wink nod nod* from two people in another department about openings that are, seemingly, about to open. i can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing? dunno. just let me run at lunch and look the other way if i hit the best of craigslist from time to time, ok? not too much to ask, is it?

and while i'm on the subject... i'm getting my base tan these past few days. even had the shirt off and got cruised by an undesirable in the park. aah, welcome spring!