Yeah, I said interview. I applied for a job working with �troubled� teens in a residential facility back at the end of May, but I didn�t hear anything for a long time and threw out all the pamphlets they sent me, thinking that their silence signaled their lack of interest in me as an employee. Turns out that this was an untrue assumption (see where assuming gets you?). I got a call yesterday while I was cleaning the apartment from the guy in charge of hiring and he said that they had just had a position open up. I set up an interview, but I�m having second thoughts as to whether I should even bother going since it�s nights only and I can�t pull all-nighters as a course of habit. I may be a night owl, but once it passes 2, I need sleep. Luke told me I should go and just see what it�s about before tossing it into memory. I also applied online for a position at the local pet food store/humane society satellite location. Yes, it�s retail, but it is retail with animals, and from what I�ve seen, good people. I think I could deal as long as there were animals and good people around.

Luke just called a moment ago (I�m composing offline) to say hi and that he�s having a fairly bad day. This makes his second less than decent day in a row. Yesterday he was stuck in cash-wrap all day long and came home to spend the entire night on the computer, venting his frustrations. As for today�s mess, he�s been moved again; a lateral move, but a move nonetheless. He�s now magazine lead, but I guess that the way it was done was a little underhanded. He didn�t want to get into it over the phone, so I have to wait for the whole story until he gets home this evening. It makes me so sad when he�s hit with things and I can�t rush over to immediately comfort him. I know it�s unprofessional to seek comfort while still on the company�s dime, but it�s worth the loss of face for both of us to just be able to give a hug here and there. Besides, his superiors don�t seem to mind it when I show up for whatever reason. I get to learn things and spend time with my honey at the same time. It�s a win-win situation, really. I wonder if they�re going to start hiring there soon. They�ve lost several people in the past few weeks and things are getting even harder for the current employees than they were. I understand that they don�t want to spend money that they don�t have on hiring new people, but I think sacrifices need to be made. They think that giving t-shirts out declaring that opening night of Harry Potter was survived, but they don�t pay enough for employees to survive the paying of bills and the buying of food.

When Luke got home last night, I really didn�t feel like cooking. I�d spent the day in my pajamas and was simply exhausted, so I asked him if he wanted to order in and he reluctantly agreed. I am glad he did because he deserves things like that when he�s having a bad week. He enjoyed his food and went back to the computer. Tonight we have to go to the grocery store for some basic items.

Things are still clearing up down south, but there�s none of the swelling and extreme pain that accompanies the 1-day crap that�s on the market, plus it�s obviously clearing up at last check.

The apartment smells like Lysol. I hate that smell, but it had to be done. I woke up this morning to find a tiny bit of cat poop on the couch. I know this wasn�t an intentional act on GC�s part, but it was still gross, so I had to scoop it up an liberally apply a layer of Lysol to try and kill the germs left behind. The only thing I like about this particular can of Lysol is that it holds memories of the very early stages of our relationship, back when Travis the crazy still lived with us. I suppose I�ll just tell the story.

2 � years ago, I moved in with Luke and his now former best friend Travis. Travis had some serious issues and Luke knew it, but he tolerated him because they had known one another since Kindergarten and even though Luke was paying all the bills (rent included) he couldn�t kick Travis out. One morning, Luke and I woke up and started to go about our daily activities, all of which were confined to the bedroom up until a certain point. Once the time came to exit our bedroom, though, that�s when the trouble began. As soon as the door was opened it was as if we had been hit with a wall of sweaty stench-infected feet. One couldn�t traverse the hallway without being driven to holding one�s nose unless they really wanted to collapse right there. So, Luke went into the living room to see Travis lying on the couch, boots off, watching television. This wasn�t an unusual phenomenon, as Travis refused to allow anyone to believe that he slept, but we all knew otherwise. On this particular occasion, Travis had fallen asleep on the couch (yes, he had his own room) with his boots on and decided upon waking that they should be removed. I don�t know whether he realized the magnitude of his stink or not, but he seemed happy as a clam to be sitting there without the slider open, with no concern for how his roommates would feel. Luke, being the bill-payer and feeder of Travis, told him that in our absence (we had plans with M&G to go to a movie), Travis had to put his boots out on the balcony and suffer the mid-winter cold with the slider open in order to air the place out.

Film seen (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and dropped back off, Luke and I walked back up the stairs only to learn that Travis had done none of what he was told and Luke was livid. Because Travis was such an incompetent, spiteful, and lazy fool, it was we who had to traipse the mile or so through the snow to Shopko to get Lysol, even though we had even less money then than we do now. Luke�s intention in buying Lysol was not only to deodorize, but also to injure; he fully planned on spraying it directly into Travis� face when we got back. But, instead of returning immediately home because I knew that Luke�s retaliation would do nothing but create even more discord, I convinced him to walk to PetsMart with me and look at kitties. Kitties are Luke�s Kryptonite as I would soon learn and his anger abated to a degree that I considered safe. So, we walked back home, Luke still fairly steaming, but not to the point where he was homicidal with the can of Lysol. If I remember correctly, Travis had gone out when we got back home and Luke and I were left to our own devices, airing out our abode and getting up to newly cohabitating and brand new (we dated a month long distance before the move-in) couple hijinks in the safe zone, AKA the bedroom.

I have many other Travis stories leading up to and including that of his very abrupt and violent departure, but those are for another time.